Avenging Angel
by Nightmare Prince
Summary: It's been twelve years since Hermione left her children on the Potter's doorstep, and they've grown into a formidable young wizard and witch. Can this new generation succeed where their parents failed, can they succeed in ridding the world of The Dark Lord, while somewhere, somehow, Hermione Malfoy may still be alive. . . [VoldemortWon!AU / Death Eater!Hermione] Complete
1. Chapter 1: A Whole New World

**Avenging Angel**

**Chapter One**

**A Whole New World**

Ginny groaned in frustration as she stepped into the training room, ready to tear out her hair in exasperation. She had told them to shower and get ready for dinner nearly an hour ago, and yet here they were, still too wrapped up in their duel to even notice she had entered the room.

"Expelliarmus," she muttered, her voice suitably cross, as she pointed her wand at the two teenage boys in front of her, easily catching the two wands that flew from their hands. The sudden loss of their weapons caught their attentions quickly enough and they turned, staring at her rather sheepishly.

"Sorry, Mum," said a nineteen-year-old James Potter, "We lost track of time." His dark hair, usually artfully spiked in one of those absurd teenage fashions, clung loosely to his brow as he caught his breath. Sweat ran down his bare chest, he was as usual clad in a pair of jeans and trainers for his daily training regimen.

"It's my fault, Aunt Ginny," added Scorpius, wiping a pale arm across his own sweaty brow, clad in much the same way as James.

"I do not care whose fault it is," she said in a voice that left no room for arguments, "Go and get ready for dinner right now."

She couldn't help the wan smile that spread across her features as both boys practically fled her presence, rushing straight to their rooms to shower and change. They may not be children anymore, but not one of the teenagers under her care doubted that she would hesitate to bend them over her knee if they crossed her.

Despite her stern hand she loved them all to pieces, even if there were times when they tested her patience to the very limit. She snorted to herself. When she had been younger, she had vowed to herself that she wouldn't emulate her mother who had birthed seven children. Despite that vow she had still eventually gone on to raise six. Between James, Albus, Lily, Teddy, Scorpius, and Cassandra; she was very surprised that she was not pre-maturely grey.

It hadn't been easy these past few years. There were so few who were still willing to fight that the Order had been reduced to a cult following. Had running been an option, the Potters would have left the country long ago but Grimmauld Place was their only true haven. Had they fled, like so many other prominent Order families, they would only have been signing their own death certificates.

There were nights when she still couldn't sleep, memories of that bitter night still haunting her dreams. It had been twelve years since Hermione had left her children at Grimmauld Place along with a Horcrux, and it was that alone that earned the fallen witch Ginny's forgiveness. Despite the mistakes her best friend had made, in the end she had done the right thing.

"Where are the boys?" asked Harry, raising his left eyebrow as Ginny walked into the kitchen alone, snapping her back to reality.

"Showering. When it comes to duelling they're worse than you and Ron were," sighed Ginny, her lips twitching in a faint smile.

"We weren't that bad," said Harry wistfully, reaching out to yank his wife into his lap.

"Harry James Potter, the kids will be down any minute," squealed Ginny as she felt her husband's lips on her neck.

"No they won't." He grinned at her, his hand snaking up her blouse. "Cass and Lily are still at Shell Cottage, James takes longer in the bathroom than his sister," he punctuated each word with a soft kiss along her collar, "Teddy is still in Bulgaria and Al. . ."

"Has just been scarred for life," said a teasing voice from the doorway, causing her and Harry to fly apart as though burned. Seventeen-year-old Albus Potter waltzed into the kitchen, grinning mischievously at his parent's embarrassed silence. Still blushing profusely, Ginny busied herself at the stove as her youngest son chuckled at his parents' expense.

There were days when Ginny was actually thankful that her children couldn't attend Hogwarts. Al took after his troublemaking twin uncles a little too closely for comfort, but there was a distinctly Slytherin streak in him that had come from Merlin knew where.

Inwardly, she thanked Morgana that Al had developed such a close bond with Scorpius.

Scorpius was moody and pensive, a solitary young man whose haunted grey eyes were her biggest failure. She had never managed to heal all his scars, the scars that had been inflicted during the first five years of his life by Voldemort's Death Eaters. Even now, twelve years later, he always held himself back in conversation, refraining from joining them on intimate events. It saddened her, that even now, he would often hold himself in the background until one of the family members dragged him to join them.

A part of her lived for those moments, seeing the quick spark in his eyes when he realised that he was loved and cared for. It was this quiet, brooding personality that often kept Albus from causing too much trouble and that kept James hot-headed temper in check. There was a strong bond between the four young men – even though Teddy was rarely home now that he was an active field agent for the Order – but she always noticed that the platinum-blond haired Malfoy always tried keeping himself an arm's length away from them. Cass had once told her that it was just her brother's way, a defence mechanism off sorts.

Realising that the kitchen was now fully occupied, she quickly served dinner and couldn't help smiling and taking her husband's hand as her boys, all three of them, instantly dug in ravenously.

**.o0o.**

"Hey, mate," said James as he strode into the room.

"Jay." Scorpius looked up from his perch on the window-seat, slipping his wand into his book as a make-shift mark before setting it aside.

"I never understand your fascination with reading, Scorp." He grinned as he pulled up the chair from his adoptive brother's desk, only then noticing the stone basin on Scorpius' desk.

"Scorp," he said curiously, "Why do you have Dad's Pensieve?"

"James, don't!" began Scorpius as James reached for the basin, getting to his feet to try and keep him from touching the writhing pool of memories. It was too late, his fingers had already broken the surface, and he'd slipped into the Pensieve.

At first, his new setting was dark, he couldn't see anything. Then memories began to form from the shadows, the twisting darkness coalescing to form a scene from Scorpius' past.

.

_It was Scorpius's eleventh birthday and to celebrate, Mum had invited the entire Weasley clan over for dinner. Celebrations had been far and few between because of the war, but his parents were determined to give their adoptive son a special party to celebrate what would have been his entry into Hogwarts. He remembered seeing his kid brother's huge grin at being the centre of attention for once as everyone clustered around the dinner table, singing the Happy Birthday song and giving him presents._

_It was only when his parents presented Scorpius with his wand did things go wrong._

"_But that's Hermione's wand," protested Uncle Ron as he took note of the elegant vines engraved on the handle._

"_Yes Ron," said Dad in a warning tone, "Hermione told Ginny and I to give it to her son when he comes of age."_

"_What a beautiful gesture," murmured Nana Molly, exchanging a nod with Gramps._

"_So you're going to give my Hermione's wand to the spawn of a Death Eater?" asked Ron angrily, refusing to heed the warning looks in most of his family's eyes._

"_Mum was never yours, was she? She loved my dad," interjected Scorpius in a small voice, "They helped us, didn't he Auntie Ginny?" _

"_Your father was a bloody cowardly git who stole the woman I loved, and then brainwashed her into becoming a Death Eater just like he was," roared Ron furiously._

"_That's enough, Ron," yelled Harry ,"Shut up and sit down."_

"_I will not shut up and sit down," he roared, before turning to face Scorpius, who had sought shelter behind James and Teddy, "Malfoys have no place in this home, and they never will."_

"_You're out of line, Ronald," snapped George, gesturing for Teddy to take the youngsters upstairs, seeing that most of his family looked ready to spit fire._

.

The scene slowly faded to inky black as new images began to form.

.

"_I hope you all haven't started without me," came Ron's voice as the family ate around the crowded dinner table. He walked into the room, looking cross as he realised that the Potter's had already tucked in._

"_Strange that you haven't set me a place," he snapped his eyes turning to glare at Scorpius, who looked older than the last memory . . . thirteen, perhaps._

"_Ron, I didn't think you'd be joining us," Mum said, standing up quickly to get him a plate and cup for the newest arrival._

"_Don't worry Aunt Gin, he can have my seat," said Scorp quietly, "I'll just go eat in the living room."_

"_You don't have to do that, Scorp," said Harry, his emerald green eyes shooting daggers at his brother-in-law._

"_It's no trouble, Uncle Harry," he said, picking up his plate and turning to leave the room._

"_Ronald," growled Ginny angrily as Scorpius left the room._

"_Ginny, this is a family meal," Ron said pointedly, "It's not like they're . . ." He glared at Cassie who shrank into Albus. "Our blood."_

_James stood up and left the room at this point, clenching his fist as he stomped up the stairs._

"_Well maybe not," scowled Ginny, "but. . . ." Scorpius never heard the rest. He'd been listening at the door and Ginny's first words sent him rushing off to the living room, blinking back tears._

_There was a flash of vibrant-red hair dashing after him as the scene faded to inky black once more._

_._

New memories began taking shape_._

_._

_It was Christmas and the Potter's were all lounging about the living room enjoying the peaceful morning. Even Cassie was there, her head resting on Teddy's arm. Scorpius stood at the top of the stairs, watching them as Ron walked past him. . . _

"_Enjoying the view Ferret? Look at them, they don't even notice you're not there. . ." _

.

"_Scorp," she said tenderly, walking into his room. He was sitting in the window seat, watching the night sky as she walked towards him and put her arm comfortingly on his bare shoulder. The fact that he was wearing nothing but pyjama bottoms didn't seem to faze her._

"_When I was a kid, my mum used to take me stargazing," he said softly. It was rare to hear him speak about his childhood._

"_We used to look for my constellation," he continued. "Why does he hate me?" he asked suddenly, abruptly. _

"_You should just ignore him, Scorp," Lily said, lowering herself so that she was perched on his lap._

"_But it's true, isn't it?" he said, meeting her eyes, "I don't belong here."_

"_Scorp. . ." she began. _

"_It's OK, Lily," he said softly, "Just stay with me tonight."_

_She sighed at his interruption, but nevertheless, she quieted down and stroked his silky hair till he fell asleep, his head buried in her ruby shoulder._

_._

"_You filthy, little scumbag!" Ron yelled, "How dare you raise your wand against her?"_

"_Uncle Ron, NO!" shrieked Lily, her voice hysterical as she watched him raise his wand._

"_You want to duel little boy, let's duel," Ron growled angrily, "SECTUMSEMPRA!"_

_The curse caught Scorpius by surprise, slashing him across his arm and sending him sprawling. The next second, Ron lay on the ground, his niece's wand trained at his face._

"_Get out!" she shrieked, "I asked him to help me train!"_

"_Lily, he's a Death Eater . . . you should train with somebody trustworthy." There was a flash of guilt in Ron's eyes, before it was replaced with hate._

"_I trust him with my life, now get out, or I swear that I will curse you," she screamed, red sparks flaring from her wand as the older man turned on his heel and all but fled. She ran to the blond, gasping at the blood pooling around the floor before moving her wand over his cuts, murmuring healing incantations._

_._

"_I don't belong here, Lily," he said, stuffing clothes into his suitcase._

"_Scorpius, please just listen to me," she sobbed._

"_I don't deserve this, I don't deserve everything your family's done for me. I'm done causing problems to the only people who have ever accepted me," he said._

"_The Order had accepted you, Scorpius." _

"_They tolerate me because of Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny. They look at me like I'm a Death Eater who just killed their puppy." He slammed his suitcase shut and made for the door._

_She grabbed him by his wrist and yanked, tears falling freely from her eyes. _

"_Scorpius stay. . .stay for me."_

_._

"_Albus and James are my best mates, I can't betray their trust like this," he said._

"_Scorp, my brothers don't have a say in who I date."_

"_How long will it take for them to turn on me when they find out I've been snogging their baby sister." He sounded torn._

"_They would never turn on you, Scorp," she said seriously, realising his insecurities . . . then she grinned cheekily and pecked him on the nose, "Even if they do you'll always have me."_

"_Always?" he asked as he took her in his arms._

"_Always. . ." she breathed into his ear. _

"_You're all I need," he said, trembling like a leaf in her arms._

.

James was shaken back to reality, and gasping, he quickly turned to see Scorpius's ashen face.

"Why didn't you ever say anything, mate?" he asked reassuringly, for the first time knowing why Scorpius was always so withdrawn, often preferring his books to their companionship.

"It's OK, James," Scorpius said with a sigh. "He was right anyway. I'm not really a part of this family."

When James remained silent, unsure of how to properly respond to a statement like that, Scorpius continued, "And I didn't want to bother you or Al."

"Bother us about what?" asked Albus, leaning against the doorframe. James shot him a serious look, hoping he'd be able to drawn on some form of latent sibling telepathy and convey to him the seriousness of the situation.

"Oh, did James find out about you and Lily then, mate?"

"You knew," said James his jaw dropping to the floor.

"How?" asked Scorpius, aghast, his face blanching more than humanly possible.

"You talk in your sleep, mate. It's disturbing to hear you moan her name at night." shrugged Al. "Oh, Lily. . . Ooooh, Lily. . .Lily. . ." he added in a high falsetto voice.

There was a second of silence before all three boys dissolved into hysterics despite the tense atmosphere.

"So you guys aren't mad?" asked Scorpius timidly, "You don't hate me?"

"We could never hate you," said Albus indignantly, "You're our brother."

"But . . . I," began Scorpius.

"No buts, Scorp, you're stuck with us whether you like it or not," said James.

"And for the record, Lily would be hard pressed to find a better guy than you mate," said Albus.

"Though if you hurt her . . ." James trailed off warningly.

"You've seen us duel," finished Albus with a wink.

Scorpius couldn't help the grin that spread on his face as the Potter boys pulled him into a _manly_ embrace. James smiled to himself at the sight of that grin; it was the boyishly innocent grin that he hadn't seen in years.

**.o0o.**

"Crucio," the words slithered of the Dark Lord's serpentine tongue in a silky tone, and he writhed in agony as the curse came crashing over him. He bit his tongue to keep from screaming.

It had been a long time since he'd been imprisoned, and in that time he learned enough to know that he would _never_ give Voldemort the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

When the curse ended, he gasped slightly, breathing deeply as he filled his lungs with the stale air that was ever-present within the dank dungeons.

"It's been twelve years, Riddle," he spat at the delusional half-blood who styled himself a Lord, "Why am I still alive?"

"You amuse me, Draco." Voldemort stroked at his chin. "The stubborn Gryffindor nature of your wife seems to have leached into you."

His grabbed the blond by his matted hair and dragged him out the room and down a long corridor till he reached an exquisitely carved stone door. Draco went without fight, belatedly wondering what lay in store for him now.

"I will show you why you are still of use to me, Draco."

Despite years of not practicing magic, he could feel the powerful hum of power emanating from the room. He heard the Dark Lord speak in Parseltongue, wincing at the harsh language, remembering all the times over the years that the language of serpents had heralded a visit from Nagini.

The door slid open and Draco felt his breath catch in his throat.

In the middle of the room stood a swirling pillar of sparkling crystal, spiralling into a shimmering prison of celestial energy. The monument gleamed with power and just being in its presence caused his Dark Mark to burn as if on fire. But it wasn't the radiant beauty, nor was it the searing power than rocked him to his core.

Brunette curls fell to the small of her back, framing her pale skin, and cupping her delicate features. She was wearing the same clothes he had last seen her in, that elegant skirt and blouse she had worn the night she'd gotten the children to safety. Her eyes were closed, chocolate orbs hidden from his sight. He saw her, frozen within the pillar, and for a split second he imagined that her chest rose . . . a breath of life

"She's alive?" he asked, in a voice choked with emotion, as he took in the sight of Hermione Malfoy, frozen in time.


	2. Chapter 2: Raised as Warriors

**Chapter 2**

**Raised as Warriors**

Fleur Weasley had just finished cooking dinner when the living room fireplace erupted into green flames. Surprised at the sudden arrival of guests, she craned her neck through the kitchen door to see who had come to call on the inhabitants of Shell Cottage. It was quite odd to receive unexpected houseguests considering the trying times in which they lived, and it was for this reason that she maintained a firm grasp on her wand.

Her face blanched at the sight, the cup of tea in her hand falling to shatter dozen pieces. Not caring for the spilled tea, or the shards of china, she rushed forward to help the young couple as they stumbled into the room.

Victoire's clothes were drenched in blood as she clung limply to her boyfriend and field partner, Teddy Lupin. The young man's usually turquoise hair had turned a drab, mousy brown, and his face, _merde,_ his features could barely be distinguished beneath the mottled collection of black and blue.

Teddy groaned as he tried stepping towards the couch, before slumping forward onto the rug, a deep slash across his back sluggishly bubbling liquid scarlet. Victoire sank to her knees beside him, and silent sobs wracked her body.

Even before she'd reached them, Fleur could tell that each and every breath was torture on her daughter's ribs, and all it took was a quick glance to tell her that more than a few of them were cracked.

"Bill!" screamed Fleur, her accent thickening as her emotions flared, and for a split second, she forgot all the years she'd been healing wounded Order members. Recovering herself, she moved to assist her daughter, but was met with a pleading, pain-filled expression.

"I'll be fine, Mum, Teddy won't," gasped Victoire, blood spilling in a slender rivulet from the corner of her lips.

Just then, Bill burst into the room, closely followed by their son, Louis, and it was with a degree of pride she noted that they both had their wands raised. Seconds later, Cassandra, Dominique, and Lily hurried into the living room; still dripping from what had obviously been a day spent enjoying the waves and sun.

Fleur nodded quickly at her husband, and blinked back her tears as he joined her on the floor beside Teddy's prone body. Hastily, she began casting spells to stem his bleeding while Bill used his jacket to keep pressure on the wound. Dimly, she was aware of the girl's conversation to the side, and she latched on to their voices in an attempt to maintain her cool as she worked.

Lily knelt beside Victoire, and before her daughter could protest, the younger girl was pointing her wand at the blonde.

"Episkey," muttered Lily, and Fleur heard her eldest daughter's hiss of pain as the magic sank into her wounded chest, knitting the ribs together in what was no doubt a wave of uncomfortable warmth.

"The spell isn't meant for healing ribs, you're going to need some Skelo-grow," said Cassie, and she dashed off in the direction of the potions pantry. Nodding in agreement, Fleur bit her lip and cringed at the sight of a piece of Teddy's spine, the white bone in stark contrast to the red wetness of the gash.

"Louis, Apparate to Grimmauld and get Ginny or Harry," yelled Bill, and Fleur felt her heart sink as the skin around the slash began to darken. Bill moved his jacket, and they both stared in horror at greenish tinge spreading across the raw flesh.

"I'm on it." Louis nodded, a sickened look spreading across his fourteen-year-old face, and he Disapparated with a crack.

"Poison," murmured Fleur as she drew her wand over his back again, slowing the venom's progression as best she could. She cursed herself when she heard Victoire sob louder than before, evidently having heard her words.

Sparing a look at her daughter, she winced at the sight of Lily using a pair of tweezers to remove shards of glass from Victoire's shoulder. Then Cassie was back, her hands full of potion bottles and jars, which she dropped onto the couch before kneeling besides Lily on the ground.

Fleur watched as the Malfoy girl took one look at the bleeding shoulder, and grabbed a bottle of amber liquid, splashing it across the shredded skin without a second of hesitation. The wound hissed and a plume of smoke rose from it, just as Victoire screamed in pain, "What the fuck is that?"

"Fire Whiskey," said Cassandra in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. Fleur grabbed the bottle from her, and flicking her wand to cast a repelling charm along the boy's vertebra, she splashed some across the cut.

It was the best antiseptic they had, and she prayed that it worked.

.o0o.

"Uncle Harry," yelled Louis as he spun into the entrance hall of Grimmauld Place, the crack of Apparition echoing through the silent home. He rushed through the wards, not bothered by them in the slightest, because as a member of the Order, he was always welcome at their safe-houses.

Running into the living room, he slammed into James, and sent them both flying to the ground.

"Louis, what the hell?" groaned James as he got to his feet.

"DadsaidtogetUncleHarrybecauseTeddy'shurtandneedshelp," said Louis, his eyes flashing around the room looking for any sign of his aunt or uncle.

"Come again, mate, I didn't catch that."

"Teddy's back, but he's hurt bad and Dad said to get Uncle Harry or Aunt Ginny," said Louis, taking care to speak slowly this time, watching helplessly as James' face paled.

"Louis, honey, why are you here?" asked Aunt Ginny, stepping out of the kitchen, coming to a standstill as she caught sight of the expressions on their faces.

"Teddy's been hurt, Dad sent me to get you or Uncle Harry."

"Oh my," Aunt Ginny froze, worry for her godson etched onto her features, "Come on, we'll take the Floo."

"Mum . . . there's a full moon tonight," said James softly.

Aunt Ginny paled considerably, pausing only to grab a phial of Wolfsbane from the cabinet as she ushered them both towards the Floo. "Then we'd better hurry."

Louis understood their concern, and he himself felt a pang as he realised what the full moon would mean for Teddy. His sister's boyfriend may not be a werewolf, but he was still affected by the lunar cycle. Like him, Teddy also knew the curse of the moon, and it was for that reason that Shell Cottage was often devoid of most of its inhabitants during that particular part of the month.

His father bore the scars of a werewolf, and the toxins had been spread to he and his sisters, and though they did not undergo the transition, their fever would spike, and without Wolfsbane, they'd spend the night writhing in pain.

When they reached Shell Cottage, Aunt Ginny's breath hitched in her throat at the sight of her mangled godson lying on the living room floor.

"How is he?" she asked quickly rolling up her sleeves and drawing her wand.

"Alive," said Mum, something about her voice adding an unspoken "For Now. . ." to her sentence.

"There's dark magic in his wound, Ginny, it doesn't look good," added Dad as he worked tirelessly, pouring a purple potion across the gash in what seemed like an attempt to draw out the poison.

"Lily, Cass, Can you take Victoire to her room? Dom, send a patronus to Andromeda, she'll want to know." The girls nodded at Ginny quietly, and without a word of protest they wrapped their hands around Victoire's shoulders to help her to her room.

His sister turned her head as they reached the door, "Don't you dare die on me, Ted."

Her body wracked once more with tears, she let herself be helped to her room.

.o0o.

The door creaked open, causing Draco to stare in an almost incredulous manner. He never received visitors, and apart from his weekly torture sessions with Voldemort, and the house elf that brought him food and drink, he hadn't seen anyone in twelve years.

Apart from Hermione, that is, whom he'd seen yesterday, or, was it the day before? He had been here for so very long that time had long since lost all real meaning.

"You're alive," said the masked figure in the doorway, a male voice that sounded oddly familiar. Draco stared sullenly at his guest, wondering why on earth the man sounded so emotionally tense.

"Did Riddle send you to finish me off then?" he asked. He did not fear death, for he had languished here long enough to know there where things far worse than the peace that existed beyond the Veil.

"I thought you'd died . . . he told me you died . . . you, and 'Cissa, and the children. He told me you were all dead."

Draco stared at the masked figure, comprehension dawning as he identified the voice, so familiar yet so forgotten. He felt a pang, it had been twelve years since he'd heard that voice, and even longer since he'd wanted to.

Would his children remember his voice? Or had they forgotten him, just as he'd forgotten the man in the doorway, who'd become all but a stranger to him.

Not a day went by where he didn't think of them. It was all that kept him sane, all that kept the Cruciatus from breaking him. The knowledge that this pain he was forced to endure was punishment for the freedom he'd bought his son and daughter . . . if that was not worth his torment, he didn't know what was.

"Lucius," he muttered at the man in the doorway, wondering why his father would choose to come to him now of all times. Surely, he'd known that he'd been alive, kept as a prisoner in their former home.

"It's good to see you, Draco." Lucius sounded hollow. "Is . . . Is 'Cissa also still alive? Scorpius? Cassandra?"

"Hermione got the children to safety before she was captured, but Mother was not so lucky." He snorted. "Why am I even telling you this? It's not like you care."

He felt a pang, for even now, twelve years later, he couldn't get the image out of his mind. The flash of green light, and the sight of Narcissa Malfoy falling as if in slow motion, till she slammed into the ground and lay unmoving, the spark in her eyes dimmed forever more.

Lucius visibly deflated at the news. He had obviously hoped that like his son, his wife had been similarly imprisoned.

"Draco . . . I was a fool back then, and I know that I have done things that are unforgivable but . . . I spent twelve years alone, Draco. I thought my entire family was dead for over a decade. I thought I had lost you all, but . . . but you're still breathing, my son, so I guess I've been given my second chance."

"Your second chance? What are you talking about?" snarled Draco.

"I know you hate me, Draco, but trust me when I say that," he paused, swallowing before continuing, "it is nothing compared to the hatred and loathing I feel for myself every day of my life."

He sounded so sincere and defeated, Draco actually found himself feeling pity for this pathetic excuse for a father.

"This is what's going to happen, Son. I heard groans coming from this room, so I came to investigate. Imagine my shock to find my deceased son imprisoned in my own dungeons. I taunted you, as the Mudblood loving fool that you are, and you overpowered me. You took my wand and then fled. Do you understand?"

"What are you blathering–"

"I'm sorry, Son, for everything I have done. Thus I atone. _Stupefy_," said Lucius, aiming his wand at his own chest.

Lucius crumpled under his own spell, his wand rolling to lie at his feet and as Draco picked it up, he felt his magic again, for the first time in over a decade.

.o0o.

Victoire lay back in bed, her wounds having been cleaned and healed by her cousins. Her bloodstained clothing had already been committed to the fireplace by her over-zealous sister, Dominique, and she was now dressed in a loose fitting, yet comfortable pair of silky shorts and an oversized red t-shirt, which belonged to Teddy.

Somehow, the faint scent of his musk upon the cotton was enough to calm her, if only a little.

She had already been forced to take a hot shower to clean the filth and blood from herself, her younger sister having had to help her stand and clean herself. Dominique now lay curled up in the love seat across the room, having refused to leave her side.

Lily sat beside her on the bed, carefully dabbing a foul-smelling ointment over the puckered slit on her face, just above her left eye. The concoction was a useful brew, especially in stopping scarring, and like many of the balms and potions used by the Order, it was a creation of Cassandra Malfoy.

Though young, Victoire would trust her life to the girl, because there was said to have never been a greater Potions Master since Severus Snape himself. Cassandra had already floo'd back to Grimmauld Place with James after Aunt Ginny had insisted that the two of them go and get some rest. Her aunt had tried suggesting Lily do the same, but at given up the argument at the look in her cousin's eyes.

Lily loved Teddy just as much as she did, albeit in a different way.

The door creaked open revealing a very grim faced version of her father, followed closely by her mother, her usually immaculate face stained with tear-tracks.

Victoire's head whipped towards them instantly, not caring that her body ached whenever she made any sudden movements, or that her ribs were in a very fragile condition.

"Teddy?" she said his name like a question, her body tense and worried.

"He's stable," said Bill, his grim look fading slightly as life seemed to her, and her felt her body relax, if only by a little.

"He'll heal. It's going to take a while though. Ginny and Louis are with him now," continued Bill, "He hasn't woken yet, but give it time, and he will be back to normal."

"Victoire?" asked Fleur gently, "What happened?"

"Bellatrix," Victoire said her name like a curse, her eyes darkening with hate, "It was a trap from the very start."

"What do you mean?" asked Lily, her eyes narrowing.

"There was no Horcrux in Bulgaria. We found Circe's bracelet and destroyed it with a basilisk fang, but it wasn't a Horcrux. They were just trying to draw us out, obviously hoping that it would be Uncle Harry who showed up to dispose of it, but instead, they got the two of us. Bellatrix didn't seem to mind, you know how eager she is to trim her family tree."

"Just the two of you? What about Krum?" Fleur asked pointedly.

"Dead." Victoire shrugged. It was something she hated, that the concept of death had become so familiar to them all that it could be dismissed so casually.

She continued, "Bellatrix ambushed us at the inn with some of her lackies. She had her git of a husband using Polyjuice so that we would think he was Viktor. When she realised who Teddy was . . . she was out for blood." Victoire's voice broke, and she turned, burrowing her head into Lily's shoulder, and letting the first tears begin to flow.

"The important thing is that you both are alive," said Bill, but his eyes betrayed his feelings. She could tell how furious he was that she'd been injured by his voice alone, and he was even angrier that she and her boyfriend had nearly lost their lives.

From the minute the Dark Lady had shown up on the scene, their failure had been inevitable. Despite Teddy and her being skilled duellists, she knew that they were no match for a witch as dark and powerful as Bellatrix Lestrange.

"You need to sleep and let the potions take effect," reminded Lily as she offered Victoire a vial of Sleeping Solution.

Looking up at her parents, she forced a wan smile to her lips as thanks for saving her boyfriend. Then she tipped the sweet potion down her throat, and let her world go dark.

.o0o.

"Al . . . Are you awake?" came a soft voice from his doorway.

"Yeah, what's up?" he replied, lifting his head of the pillows to look at his late night visitor. Cassandra stood nervously at his doorway, twirling her platinum blonde ringlets between her fingers as she said, "I can't sleep."

"Neither can I." Albus sat up in bed, his covers slipping down to expose his toned chest, and he felt his cheeks heat up, just a little. Did he imagine it, or did she start at the sight of him without a shirt on?

Sure, she'd seen him bare-chested before, but always in the training room, or by accident when he was goofing around with his brothers. It had never been when he was in bed, and he couldn't help but fight the swirling butterflies that had been let loose in his stomach.

_Stop it, Albus! She's Scorpius' sister . . . she's only fifteen. She looks at you as nothing more than another brother. _

"Every time I close my eyes, I see him and Vic," she said quietly, disrupting his train of thought. "She looked so broken, it was terrible, and . . . and there was so much blood. I'm scared, Al."

Albus softened at her words, and he forgot his own conflicting feelings for a minute.

Cass was too innocent for this war. The truth was he was worried about her, more than he worried for James, Lily, Scorp, or his parents. Because unlike the others, Cass wasn't a fighter, her talents lay in potion-making and healing, and he couldn't see her lasting long in a fight.

Sure, she was powerful, there was no denying that, but she just wasn't a fighter by nature, and that held her up during their training.

He couldn't count the number of times she had come to the family's rescue, her antidotes and healing potions saving their lives time and time again but on the battlefield, she wouldn't last.

All he wanted was to keep her safe from the horrors of the frontlines, but with every passing day, and with every Order member they lost, that dream solidified into just that – an imagined reality that he'd only be able to see when he was asleep.

"We're all scared, Cass," said Albus quietly. "But I'll never let anything happen to you, you know that, right?"

He cursed himself mentally for daring to say that last bit out loud, but was he just imagining it when he saw her blush, the barest tinge of pink colouring her cheeks?

"Could I sleep here tonight, Al?" she asked timidly, "I don't want to be alone tonight, and Lily snores."

"Sure, Cass," he said after a moment of hesitation, lifting the covers so that she could climb in. He stiffened as he noticed her attire for the first time, silky pyjama bottoms and a loose fitting pink t-shirt.

Merlin, was she trying to make her brother kill him?

She nestled herself into his arms, her back pressed against his bare chest, the thin fabric of her t-shirt being all that separated their skin.

He flushed. This was not how a bloke was meant to hold his best mate's sister. Deep down though, another voice told him that _his_ best mate probably held _his_ sister in the exact same way. Unfortunately, this did little to waylay his guilt. This was Cass, she didn't look at him in that way, she saw him as nothing more than a big brother, so it was pointless him having these feelings for her.

He just didn't know why it felt so right to hold her in his arms, and fall asleep with his face buried in his hair.

It was slightly awkward being in this position with her, clad in only a pair of boxer shorts whilst she lay pressed against. He felt his face flush, and his eyes filled with horror, as a steady slew of illicit thoughts began to fill his mind, and just as nature had intended, he felt the physical reaction to his thoughts begin to form.

Desperately praying to Merlin that she didn't notice what she was doing to him, Albus tried to think of anything, from blue whales to the flowers growing in the garden, right down to picturing two elderly hobos going at it in an attempt to calm himself down.

Sadly, almost as if Cassandra was his own personal aphrodisiac, nothing worked.

"Al," she said, shifting against him, and he could see that her cheeks were burning redder than his mother's hair. "You're uhm. . ." she trailed off.

"Sorry, Cass," he stammered, embarrassed, and buried his face in his pillow in shame.

"It's fine, Al," she mumbled sleepily, but he was distinctly certain that he could hear the edge of teasing in her voice. "Good to know I'm that good looking," she finished, before closing her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3: Breaking Point

**Chapter 3**

**Breaking Point**

Harry stumbled up to his bedroom, exhausted, his body aching. This last mission had been a wakeup call of sorts, and it had made him realise that he wasn't a spry twenty-year-old anymore. Now nearing his mid-forties, he was beginning to feel the very first pains of age.

Missions like these often left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. It was one thing to kill an enemy upon the field of battle, he felt, and another thing entirely to kill someone without them giving them a chance to defend themselves. This, however much he loathed it, was the world they now lived in and concepts such as nobility and valour had long been forgone in the desperate quest for their survival.

It had ceased to be a war on the night that Hogwarts fell, and it had become a slaughter.

Their victim had been a mere twenty-five years of age, almost young enough to his daughter, but he'd had little choice. She had been an extremely influential person that supported the Death Eaters and all that they stood for, and as leader of the Order, Harry had known he had no choice but to authorise the mission to take her life. Her political and business connections would have granted the Death Eaters easy access into the French Ministry of Magic, the last standing freehold in Europe, and that was something the Order could not risk

Still, he felt no better than a Death Eater from having to storm into a stranger's home with murder as his sole intent. He'd try to ignore their pleading, or the thoughts of the children he'd orphaned over the years. He tried to rationalize his actions, that he was doing this to protect Ginny and his kids.

It rarely helped; he barely slept anymore for fear of the accusing eyes had taken to haunting his dreams.

When he had finally returned home today he had been greeted by a sombre household. After inquiring as to why everyone was in such a dismal mood, he had been quietly led to the kitchen by his eldest son so that James could explain in private. The news that his Teddy and Victoire had nearly been killed because of a trap meant for him turned his stomach into a roiling, heaving mass of metal, and it sickened him to no end.

Hearing that Teddy still hadn't woken had been a punch to the gut for him. The Metamorphmagus may be a grown man, but in his eyes he would always be the five-year-old boy with blue hair who'd crawl into his lap and begged for another story before bedtime.

.

"_Daddy, read me another story please," said Teddy, as he scrambled onto his lap. Harry exchanged a quick look with Ginny, who nodded, signifying that it was his decision, and that she would go along with whatever he decided._

"_Ted, you know I love you like a son but I'm not your daddy," said Harry kindly._

"_I know that, Daddy, but can't I have two Daddies?" he asked, his blue hair fading to mousy brown in obvious disappointment._

_Harry thought for a moment, and figured that Remus wouldn't mind if Teddy called him Daddy, so long as the boy knew who his real father was._

"_Sure you can, Teddy Bear," he said with a smile, tousling the boy's hair as it changed colour, to its usual turquoise. _

.

The memory was brief, and something niggled at his mind that he was remembering it through rose-tinted spectacles, but it stabbed at his heart all the same. Groaning, he stepped into his shower, his mind still weighed with thoughts of his godson, and he hoped that the pounding sprays of scalding water would ease some of the tension from him.

After what was close to an hour of standing under the scorching spray, he got out and pulled on a set of fresh clothes, and he hoped that Ginny would be waiting for him in bed. His hopes were dashed however, when he noticed the empty bed, and he remembered James mentioning that his wife was spending the week at Shell Cottage, caring for their godson.

He felt another pang of remorse, he should be there too, at both their sides . . . but he was so exhausted. As he prepared to go to bed, he noticed for the first time the pale glow in the corner of his room.

He paused, realising that his pensieve was not placed in its usual place. Furthermore, the distinct misty swirl of memories danced around the surface of the stone basin, indicating that somebody had obviously been using it, and it seemed they had forgotten to remove their memories.

Despite knowing that he shouldn't intrude onto another person's past, his inner curiosity seized him, causing him to hesitantly dip his hand into the shallow basin. He felt a sharp tug in his navel as he lurched forward, but the years had made him a lot more experienced in the usage of these artefacts, and he managed to land on his feet.

The first memory he landed in was a familiar one, he grinned as he recognized Scorpius' eleventh birthday.

Then, remembering how happy the kid had been that night, he frowned as the disastrous way the night had ended began to unfurl. Throughout the memory, he found himself glaring at his brother-in-law, before being forced to turn away in disgust at the man's behaviour. He froze, seeing something he hadn't seen that night.

Scorp's eyes were full of tears as he fled from the room ahead of the other children. He looked devastated, as though everything he'd previously believed in had just been proved a lie, and Harry found himself feeling a sense of bewilderment at the scene.

Why would anyone want to watch such a horrible memory?

The scene faded, and soon Harry found himself watching a normal family dinner. His fist clenched when he watched night dissolve into chaos, and he blamed himself now more than ever for never standing up to his brother-in-law over the years.

How had he never noticed how affected Scorpius had been by Ron over the years?

The scene shifted into Christmas morning, and he found himself standing at the top of the stairs beside Scorpius, gazing down at his family clustered around the tree.

"_Enjoying the view Ferret? Look at them. They don't even notice you're not there. . ." _

Harry glared, red sparks crackling off the tip of his wand as the memory of Ron gleefully made its way down the stairs while Scorpius turned and walked back to his room, his eyes fixed on the floor. He fought the urge to jinx the man nine ways to hell as he watched him traipse into the living room, his expression making it clear that he didn't feel in the slightest bit guilty for the comments he had just made to an _orphan_.

He understood that Ron had never accepted Hermione's marriage to Malfoy, and that he had never accepted her children, but this was unbelievable.

What kind of man would constantly bully an innocent child?

His pondering was interrupted when he realized the scene had shifted again and he found himself in Scorpius' bedroom.

His brow creased as he watched his daughter interact with Scorpius, before he felt his heart constrict at the blonde boy's words. . .

"_I don't belong here."_

Was that really how he felt?

Then the anger and rage coursed through his veins again, as he watched his brother-in-law curse his surrogate son in the training room. Sectumsempra? Had Ron lost his mind? That curse was one of the most lethal known to man, hell, he himself had almost killed the boy's father with it back in their sixth year.

Harry felt a surge of pride, however, when he witnessed his daughter's actions. So much like her mother, he realised with a start, when had his baby girl grown up? He was so lost in his musings, he failed to realise the scene had changed till he saw a flash of ruby red hair.

_She grabbed him by the wrist and yanked, tears falling freely from her eyes. _

"_Scorpius stay . . . stay for me."_

The scene shifted slightly, he was still in the platinum-blond's room but there were subtle differences to indicate the passage of time. He couldn't help but scowl as Lily dashed into the room, dragging Scorpius behind her. His anger at Ron diminished, just a little, as he watched the couple's lips crash together. He was about ready to leave when he heard something that made him freeze.

"_Lily . . . We can't," Scorpius whispered softly as he broke the kiss, moving his hands away from her waist._

"_Scorp, I want this. . . I want you," Lily whispered back, caressing his cheek with her left hand, taking his hand with her right, "Don't you?"_

"_Lilz, I want you more than anything," Scorpius paused._

"_Why do I sense there's a but coming," responded Lily bitterly._

"_But Uncle Harry and Aunt Gin have been like surrogate parents to me since Mum and Dad died, Albus has been my best mate, and James has treated me like a younger brother for as long as I can remember. I can't betray their trust, Lily, you're their baby girl and I'm not good enough for you. I will never be good enough for you, I'm nothing more than the son of a Death Eater who your parents took in," his voice was bitter and broken, yet oddly gentle as he drew away from her._

"_You will always be good enough for me, Scorp. I just don't see why you're the only one who doesn't see it," she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek before leaving the room._

_Lily didn't hear the words he whispered as she left, but Harry did, "Because I'm not worth it," the boy whispered, before sinking to the ground, his head buried in his hands._

As Harry drew himself from the pensieve, he looked at his warm, inviting bed and sighed. He'd been so looking forward to a peaceful night's sleep, but that would have to come later.

Right now he needed to have a serious talk with Ron Weasley.

.o0o.

"How is he?" asked Victoire in a quiet, defeated tone as she walked into the room, despite already knowing the answer.

She had rarely left his room since they had been attacked, leaving only to shower or use the bathroom. She took her meals at his bedside table, though everything she ate tasted like cardboard. To be painfully honest, life itself seemed to have lost its savour, and she could see the concern in her family's eyes as she slowly seemed to drift away, slowly resigning herself to the fact that her boyfriend may never wake.

Deep down though, she still clung on to the tiny shred of hope latched within her womb.

There had been a strong poison in his wound, and the cut had been deep, forcing the venom to take root deep into his spine. When finally, after Cassandra had managed to brew an antidote and they had purged the toxins from his system, the damage had already been done. The only reason he had lived so long was his werewolf heritage, the natural resistance of lycanthropes against all poisons and venoms.

"The same," said Ginny as she administered a particularly powerful healing potion. She looked thinner, as if the flesh had melted off her bones in the past week. Victoire could imagine the older woman's pain. Her aunt saw Teddy as a son, having raised him since the Battle of Hogwarts. After Andromeda had left for America, she had wanted to take her grandson with her, but Teddy had been adamant that he remain and fight.

_He should have gone with her_, Victoire thought to herself.

"When last did you sleep, Aunt Ginny," she asked, placing a hand on the older woman's shoulder.

"Two days ago. I'm scared that if I leave him, it'll be the last time I see him again," replied Ginny.

"He's not going to die," she said reassuringly, as much to herself as to her aunt. "Go rest, I swear I'll wake you the minute anything changes." Ginny gave her a wan nod, rising to her feet before and leaving for the guest bedroom where she had been staying.

Victoire met her aunt's eyes, and she couldn't help but associate with the older witch, she saw too much of her own pain and worry reflected in them.

She sat beside his bedside and took his hand in her own as she began speaking. She had read in one of her old books that one of the ways to draw people out of comas was to talk to them. So she'd speak, even if he couldn't hear, because if there was any hope, any at all, she would be a fool not to take it.

"I miss you, wolf-boy. I know you can hear me. I don't know how but I just do. So let me tell you what you're going to do. You're going to live, Teddy, you're going to get rid of that Merlin forsaken brown hair and get back those turquoise locks that I love. You're going to wake up so that I can hold you close, so that I can feel you beside me when I sleep. You're going to get better, and then you're going to smile, and make me forget this shitty, messed-up world we live in."

She was crying now, even though she had promised her sister she wouldn't cry anymore, after Dom had insisted she was going to make herself sick. The tears stabbed at her eyes, not heeding her wishes, and spilling free as she tried to speak on.

"I can't do this alone, Teddy, it's always been you and me, right from the start. Since we were kids, you've been there, but I need you now more than ever. I can't lose you, and you can't die, Teddy. You can't die because." She bit her lip, before breathing out a sigh and finishing in a whisper. "Because you're going to be a father."

She was still sobbing softly when her breath caught in her throat. Looking up, she felt an emotional shred of laughter brim from her lips, because his eyes were still closed and his body still lay unmoving, save for the rise and fall of his chest as he drew breath.

But right before her misty, tear-filled eyes his mousy brown locks began morphing back into spunky waves of brilliant turquoise.

.o0o.

Draco stumbled forward, his body weak from loss of blood and years of near starvation. His stomach heaved with every movement, his lungs rattling in his chest as they filled with fresh air, and his knees wobbled with almost every step.

It was not the stain of time that had weakened his body, but rather, it was the lingering traces of dark magic that clung to him like a second skin.

His flight from Malfoy Manor had not been a smooth one, once the Death Eaters stationed at the Manor had gotten over the surprise of seeing him alive, they had duelled to kill.

Twelve years ago, he had been a formidable duellist, but now it was apparent that his skills had gone to rust and ruin in the Malfoy dungeons. Merlin, he could barely keep his hand from shaking as he wielded his father's wand.

Thankfully, he had managed to fight his way to the door and Apparate to the relative safety of Muggle London.

Since then, he'd been keeping a low profile and avoiding using magic which would have been sure to draw attention to him. Magic in itself had become difficult for him, and with the minor exception of the most basic of spells, he couldn't cast anything. He attributed it to being tortured for so long, for his mind seemed fragmented, as if pieces of it lay adrift and isolated. He wondered if this would affect his abilities as a_ Legilimens_.

Earlier today, however, he had encountered two young Death Eaters, both of whom seemed to believe they had hit the jackpot in capturing "the legendary traitor, Draco Malfoy." He hadn't been proud of his actions when confronted; having turned tail and run the minute he caught sight of them.

He was not a fool. He knew that, despite their youth and inexperience, he would be no match for them in his current state. Draco Disapparated away as soon as he could, though not before being hit in the thigh with a _Diffindo_ charm, slashing him in a profusely bleeding cut.

Despite being shallow, he was sure that, based on the amount of blood he had already lost, it had slashed his femoral artery.

Clamping his torn shirt over his cut and clenching his teeth to resist the urge to scream, he shuddered realising that he needed help if he was to survive and rescue Hermione. Raising his wand, and hoping he had the energy and skill left to cast this final spell, he focused on the day his son was born.

"Expecto Patronum," he managed, as a luminescent otter burst from the tip of his wand and playfully swam through the air before settling on his knee. "Find Scorpius Malfoy," he whispered to the animal, "Message, I need help son, find me at. . ." he blacked out from blood loss, and the silvery otter nudged him in concern before soaring off into the sky.

.o0o.

It had become a routine to them.

Every night, Albus would shower and brush his teeth for bed, and an hour later he would feel the bed dip as Cassandra climbed in. He would blush at her, and she'd just smile and fall asleep in his arms, relishing in the comfort that staved off her nightmares.

They would talk for a while, of jokes and worries and little things, and slowly Albus found his resolve crumbling.

"Thank you, Al," she whispered as she snuggled against him.

"For?" he asked curiously, not moving his head from where it was buried into her platinum curls.

"For making me feel safe," she said slowly, "I feel safe when I'm with you."

"Cass," he murmured, "I'll never let anything hurt you."

"I'll never let anything hurt you either," she said turning to face him, "I may be a crap duellist and a terrible fighter but I'll protect you as best I. . ."

His lips pressed against hers, ignoring his mental protests, and he kissed her with all the tenderness he could. Her lips were sweet, as was she, and a heartbeat later she was kissing back, her lips slowly parting to grant him access. A thrill went through her spine as his tongue slid in, her eyes closing as she moved her lips against him, nipping softly at his bottom lip at he drew away.

"Cass, I'm sorry. I didn't think, well I fancy you, obviously, but you're Scorp's baby sister and you look at me like a big brother and–" he babbled, flushing furiously as she cupped his cheek.

Cassandra may be timid and shy, but in that next moment he was made fully aware that she was still a daughter of Hermione and Draco Malfoy, and that beneath her sweet nature lay hidden the soul of a Slytherin with the heart of a Gryffindor, cunning and brave, a deadly combination.

"Albus, shut up and kiss me again," she said firmly, giving him all the confirmation he needed to capture her lips with his own once more.


	4. Chapter 4: The Ties That Bind

**Chapter Four**

**The Ties that Bind**

_They were sitting on the beach below Shell Cottage, the waves washing gently across the shore as a cool sea breeze tousled his hair. He felt a familiar weight on his shoulder, and smiled to himself as Victoire leaned against his side, resting her head on his shoulder and intertwining their fingers together._

_Looking down, his grin widened at the little boy asleep on his lap, sleek, neon-green waves framing his round face. _

"_We did good, didn't we Vic?" he murmured as the boy shifted slightly, his hair fading to blond as his head nestled against Teddy's bare chest._

"_We did," she said drowsily as the sound of waves lulled them into a sense of tranquillity._

.

His eyes felt gritty, as if somebody had stuffed grains of sand behind his eyelids, and his back throbbed with a dull, aching intensity. Realising that if he was able to feel, then he must certainly be alive, he opened his eyes and took in the blurry world.

As if by habit, he trying to lift himself out of bed, failing as spasms of pain arced through his body, setting his back on fire. After a few minutes, he felt the torturous pain subside, and resigning himself to being an invalid for the foreseeable future, his gaze flickered around the familiar room.

Oddly enough, it looked nothing like the inn in Bulgaria.

A second look at the pale-blue walls, accented with dozens of golden runes told him exactly where he was. He had been here when Louis had first started drawing the runes, none of which had ever been activated.

He remembered the younger boy telling him that if they all were ever set in motion, Shell Cottage could become as formidable and defensible as Hogwarts itself, and Teddy had taken his word for it. Nobody in the Order had more skill with runes than fourteen-year-old Louis Weasley.

How had he gotten here? From what he remembered, Bella's curse had been a fatal one.

How had he survived Bulgaria? He remembered the night clearly up till the curse struck him but afterwards . . . how was he alive? How had he survived?

The answer to his questions was answered by the realisation that he wasn't alone in Louis' bedroom. He heard her soft breathing, before he slowly shifted his head to catch a glimpse of the witch who lay asleep in a chair at his bedside, her head resting beside his elbow.

He shuddered wanly, remembering the last time he had seen her, when she had been in the process of saving his life.

.

"_Circe's Bracelet," whispered Victoire in amazement, as she stared at the ancient magical relic._

_It was a slender silver band, embossed with a dozen writhing serpents, each pair of eyes glimmering with tiny emeralds or sapphires. The snakes flowed from the centrepiece, an ornately cut emerald, holding within it a shimmering droplet of ancestral venom. _

_The emerald had somehow been formed around the poison, he remembered, making it a unique and significant piece of magical history, and yet now, they were forced to destroy it. _

_All because Voldemort had tainted it with his bloody soul. _

_Teddy moved forward grimly, the Basilisk fang in his hands. He brought it down with all his strength over the immaculate emerald, and the stone shattered into a dozen shards, the venom spilling across the marble pedestal, melting a hole through it in seconds. _

"_The last drop of Hydra venom," hissed Teddy in disgust, "Gone because of You-Know-Who." Ordinarily they would have spoken his name aloud, for fear of a name increases only fear of the person attached to the name, but when on field missions they didn't have the benefit of protective enchantments protecting them from the taboo. _

"_Vic, Ted, ve mus 'urry," scowled Viktor Krum, the Order's Bulgarian contact, "Zee Death Eaters vil know zee bracelet is gone.__"_

_Hurriedly, the couple nodded and, taking each other by the arm, Apparated back to the inn they'd been staying at. He hoped that the plan would go off without a hitch at this point, and that he'd be able to Floo home to Grimmauld Place and inform Harry about the success of their mission before Apparating to Shell Cottage._

_It did help that the Floo Network used by the Order was a privately run one, set up by Kingsley after the Battle of Hogwarts as a secure medium of transport between Order Safe-houses. The security wards were powerful, and he could scarcely wait to get home where it was safe and secure._

_Loathe as he was to admit it, the mission had been gruelling, and he was exhausted. _

_Suddenly, as he neared the fireplace, he froze, noticing a tiny detail that most would miss. Had he not spent his entire life as a victim of war, he was sure he'd have as well. _

_Whipping out his wand, he pointed it straight at Viktor, and yanked Victoire behind him. _

"_Vat is this?" Krum scowled, raising his own wand in response._

"_Viktor Krum isn't right handed," growled Teddy, flicking his wand and sending a non-verbal revealing charm at what he knew to be an imposter._

_Victoire tensed, and drew her own wand from her belt, her fingers curling around his arm as the sound of slow clapping filled the room. Looking over his shoulder without turning his wand away from the imposter, he felt his blood chill at the sight of a demented witch simpering her way down the stairs. _

"_Give the boy a prize," she cackled as Krum's skin bubbled like melting rubber, growing misshapen. Teddy narrowed his eyes as hair lengthened, muscle faded, and the man rose nearly a head in height. His spell having removed the effects of the Polyjuice, he found himself pointing his wand at Rodolphus Lestrange._

"_Bellatrix," Victoire eyes narrowed in disdain as she surveyed the witch approaching them._

"_Oh you're a fresh face, I had hoped for Potter," giggled Bellatrix, snapping her fingers. The room instantly echoed with the sounds of Apparition, as an entire squadron of Death Eaters appeared at their mistress's side. _

"_I'm sure you remember my grandmother, Molly Weasley," responded Victoire tersely, and Teddy recognised her ploy for time. Feeling her fingers close around his wrist and squeeze it before releasing, he realised that they needed to reach the fireplace. There were too many of them to fight, Bellatrix alone being more than a match for them both, and he was certain that there were Anti-Apparition jinxes surrounding the inn._

_The loathing in Bellatrix's voice could not be denied as she belted out the curse, her wand slashing the air like a knife. It really was no secret that bringing up Molly Weasley never failed in provoking the woman to madness, and Teddy wondered if Victoire knew what she was doing. _

_Getting angry would make you reckless and sloppy in a duel, but from he'd heard about Bellatrix Lestrange, rage only seemed to make her deadlier. _

_He felt a shield erupt behind him, Victoire moving to defend as he stabbed at the air with his wand, wielding it like a rapier. His charm non-verbal, it catches Rodolphus in the throat, cutting through the skin and sinew in a gout of blood. The Death Eater fell with a thump, gurgling instead of sleeping, and Teddy threw out a shield charm to block a shrieking jet of amber aimed his way. _

_It would seem that the Death Eaters weren't as creative as the Order. Their curses would drain their magical reserves, whilst his well aimed charms were not as taxing. Duelling was not truly about skill and power, he reasoned, as he caught another Death Eater in the side of the head with a stinging hex. _

_It was also about endurance. _

"_Stand back," Bellatrix shrieked at her followers, all of whom hurriedly backed away, "The Lupin boy is mine."_

_Slowly but surely, they backed away towards the fireplace, dodging curses and throwing back their own to fend off Bellatrix. The older witch seemed to be underestimating them, something that would surely work in their favour, and he wondered how long it had been since Bellatrix had fought a real battle. _

_She probably had gotten more than a little rusty._

_Just then, they reached the fireplace, and Victoire threw up a shield charm to cover him. As Teddy turned to fling Floo powder into the hearth, he howled, something striking him in the back. A chorus of delighted squeals escaped Bellatrix's mouth as he stumbled forward, a slick wetness spreading across his black and running down his legs._

_It felt as though someone had buried an axe in his back. _

_He was vaguely aware that Victoire had grabbed him, and that she had sent a blasting curse up towards the ceiling, collapsing it over the assembled Death Eaters , before pulling them both into the emerald flames._

.

"Victoire," he croaked, his throat dry as a bone. His fingers twitched over her hand, which lay very near his own, trying desperately to hold on to the witch who he was certain had saved his life.

She stirred, a muffled yawn escaping her lips. As if by sheer habit, she let her fingers close around his, and then, as it realising that something had changed, jerking her head into the air.

"_Teddy_!" she shrieked, causing him to wince at the volume of her voice, "You're awake . . . Oh, Teddy, how?"

He looked at her teary eyes and smiled, "I dreamed of you."

.o0o.

"What's this about, Dad?" asked James in an irritated tone. He'd been about to go to bed after a very laborious day of training, and his entire body ached. Honestly, he didn't even think he had the energy to fap one off before hitting the pillow, let alone listening to whatever his father had summoned them all down to the living room for.

"Ron's coming," said Harry, his teeth grinding together, a sure sign that he was nearing boiling point. James knew that his father was never one for losing his temper, but when you pushed him too far and he snapped . . . it was a legendary, albeit terrifying, experience.

With a sigh, he noticed that Scorp's face had paled considerably. Looking to his father and brother in understanding, he let his resolve become set in stone. After his father had spoken to him and his brother about the Pensieve memories, it had only taken him a few minutes to realise that Dad was every bit as furious as they were, and that he'd handle this.

He just wished he was able to offer his surrogate brother a little more comfort, if only because he couldn't even begin to imagine how much Scorpius had endured over the years. He wished that he could take some of that pain into himself, if only to spare the younger boy some pain, because the blame lay in him as much as it had Ron.

He should have defended Scorpius sooner, but he'd been so adept, like the rest of his family, at tuning out his Uncle when he began his bigotry, that he'd never really seen the damage until it had been forced before his eyes.

His mother walked out of the kitchen, carrying a tray laden with mugs of hot chocolate and her famous blueberry-vanilla muffins. James exchanged a silent smile with her, nodding once as she made sure Scorpius took one. They were his favourite, after all.

James had always known his mother had a temper that would make a volcano shy away in fright, but he'd never before appreciated its true magnitude. When she had been told, Merlin bear witness that James had felt the foundations of Grimmauld Place shake beneath her rage.

"How is he?" she asked, looking at Cassandra as the youngest girl walked into the room, referring of course, to their unexpected houseguest. Cass looked more delicate than ever before, and she'd been that way ever since _he_ had been brought in two days ago.

_Dad had just been about to carve the chicken that Mum, having just returned from Shell Cottage, had roasted with butternut and potato, when the luminescent animal darted through her wall and swam onto the table._

_He stared about in confusion, as he was unsure about this Patronus. Whilst he would be a fool to think he could identify the Patroni of every witch and wizard in Britain, he had never before seen an otter. It was quite the curious animal, darting about the table, and it was only then that he realised his parents looked as though they had both seen a ghost. _

_Strangely, Scorpius and Cassandra both looked likely to faint at the very sight of the silvery otter, and James was just about to ask what the hell was going on, when he was interrupted._

"_That's. . ." Dad began, trailing off as Mum simply nodded, her knuckles white as she clenched her fists around the silverware._

"_I need help, Son," said the otter, and James gawked. Basic logic told him who it was who had sent the message, but he couldn't believe it. " Find me at. . ." finished the otter, looking straight at Scorpius._

_The blond looked as though the sky had shattered upon his shoulders, and he whispered in a voice that was choked with a million emotions and then some, "Daddy?"_

_His father stood, and nodded at Mum, before reaching for his wand and holding up his hand to silence her protests._

"_Accio Deluminator," he said, grabbing the lighter-like device as it whizzed into his hand. _

"_I'm coming with you," said James. He was nineteen, off age, and most of all, he needed to see this for himself. In the course of one chicken-carving, the entire world had turned on its head, and he had no idea as to what came next._

_Dad nodded, and James ignored the urge to grin in satisfaction. Apart from Mum, nobody else in the house was of age, save Albus and Scorpius, both of whom weren't ready to go into the field. With Mum so worn out from the events of the last week, he was the only one to be his father's back-up. _

_They had returned nearly ten minutes later, his father carrying a bloodied and battered Draco Malfoy as one would carry a baby, and James simply shivered before walking out the room. _

_**.**_

He remembered the look upon Scorpius and Cassandra's faces, and he knew that it would be one that stayed with him till he died. It had been an image of sheer wonder, and one of heartbreaking pain.

After they had tested him to make sure that he was indeed, Draco Malfoy, his mother and Cassandra had done all they could to save his life.

They had succeeded, but for the past two days all he did was sleep, waking only to babble incoherently, to scream in pain and beg for mercy. From what he could tell, it was obvious that he had been tortured and James hoped for his surrogate siblings' sakes that the damage wasn't permanent.

Thoughts of Draco, however, were banished from his mind as the fireplace erupted into green flames, and Ron stepped into the room, not even bothering to dust the soot off his clothes. Instantly, James' temper began to build, and he watched as the man waltzed into the room and plopped onto one of the armchairs, already shooting visual daggers at Scorpius and Cassandra.

"Evening, Potters," Uncle Ronald greeted cheerfully, "You wanted to see me, Harry? Any new leads?"

He caught a glimpse of his mother offering Scorpius a reassuring smile, whose already bone-white face had blanched further in Ron's presence.

If it were up to him, James would prefer letting Draco's survival, and subsequent arrival, properly sink in before going about this confrontation, but his father was adamant that they resolve the issue immediately.

"I did want to see you, _Ronald_, but this is not because of any missions," Dad's voice was hard as stone as he turned to face his brother-in-law.

"Oh . . . then what is this about?" Uncle Ronald asked, his expression growing curious. James rolled his eyes – surely the man must be picking up on some of the hostility at this point, surely he could not be so blind and deluded?

"I don't like how you treat our brother," snapped James, deciding that since they were in for a penny, it would be much better to go in for a pound. He ignored the warning glance his mother sent his way, and his father's frown. This was taking too long, and his father seemed content on, as usual, trying to work things out – or at the very least, that's how he saw it.

No, Uncle Ronald had proved himself to be a foul person, and he honestly just wanted to sock him in the face. Nobody messed with his siblings, not even the ones who weren't blood.

"Excuse me, but, when have I ever treated Al badly?" asked Ron, looking genuinely baffled at his comment.

"He isn't talking about me." Al scowled, rolling his eyes. "We are talking about Scorpius."

Ron scoffed. "That boy is not your brother. He's a stray your mother took in, try and keep the terms straight." Scorpius shrank back in his seat, and James was about to leap to his feet and hurl himself on his uncle, when his father's voice cracked the air like a whip.

"_Ronald_!"

His eyes widened, because he'd never known his father to be so angry. It seemed to have surpassed a mere rage or temper . . . no, this was so much deeper. It was a cold fury that he dearly wished to never be on the receiving end of.

"You seem to be under the delusion that I will permit you to speak about my _son_ in such a manner," said Dad, weaving his fingers together, sparks crackling from his dishevelled hair. Like James, Albus and Lily seemed similarly stunned, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from his father at this point.

This was going to be good.

"Fuck, Harry, stop being absurd!" roared Uncle Ronald, getting to his feet. "You have two sons, and they're growing up to be as deluded as you are if they think this, this wretched–"

"Let us get one thing very, very clear. I do not have three children, I have two daughters," interrupted Dad. He gestured at Lily and Cassandra. "And I have four sons, my eldest has been in a coma for over a week, and my other three are sitting here." He pointed at Albus, whose usually mischievous green eyes were dark with fury, at James, who clenched his fists in response, and finally at Scorpius, who looked downright terrified.

James could not help but shake his head. He'd duelled with Scorpius before, and seen his surrogate brother stand fearless against the most lethal of curses, and yet, confronted by Ron and he appeared as brave as a Pygmey Puff.

Realising that one of them should offer some support to Scorpius, he was about to get to his feet when he saw Lily slip her hand into his, whispering something that he couldn't hear. A faint bit of colour returned to Scorpius, but he still shivered, his fingers looking like a vice around Lily's wrist.

She winced, and then spoke, and James had never been prouder of her than when he heard what she had to say on the matter.

"Uncle Ron." Her voice was deadly calm yet laced with venom. "Scorpius Malfoy is more a part of this family than you ever will be. The only reason you can't see what a caring, talented, loving, and loyal person he is; is because you can't get over a woman that never loved you in the first place, and who fell in love with his father.

So let's get the story straight, you will choose right now. You will choose to either accept him as a member of this family, or else face the consequences."

"Or else what?" Uncle Ronald sneered, his face and years redder than his hair.

"I can't speak for anyone else, but if you can't accept him then I honestly view you as no better than a Death Eater. The only difference being is that you discriminate based on a name, whilst they discriminate based on blood. Personally, I have three other uncles. I don't really need a person like you in my life."

Lily sat back down , and ran her free hand over Scorpius' arm.

"So basically, what I'm hearing is that you all are choosing him over your family?"

Mum scowled and rose to her feet, wand in hand. "No Ron, we are choosing our family over you."

Ron's angry expression faltered at his sister's words as her meaning sunk in, and snarling, he grabbed a handful of Floo powder, storming into the fireplace without uttering another word. The room was silent, nobody daring to say a word, when the eerie calm was broken by a trembling voice.

"You sh... sh... shouldn't ha... have done th... that," stammered Scorpius, speaking for the first time that night. James whipped around to face him, heart sinking at the tears spilling down his surrogate brother's cheeks.

"He's your br... brother, Aunt Ginny, you shouldn't. I can't. I'm not worth this, breaking your family apart... you've all b... been so good... an... and I just caused that to happen."

Scorpius shook like a leaf, looking around the room with wide, watery, terrified eyes. "Call him back, I'll go... I'll go and... I'm a Malfoy... Malfoys aren't welcome here; I just broke up a famil..."

"Scorpius, calm down," Dad said, his voice alarmed as he hurried across the room to steady him. James watched, heart breaking in his chest, as Scorpius shook and stuttered, tears streaming down his face. His father knelt before the boy, grabbing him by his shoulders, but it didn't seem as though Scorpius was aware of this.

"All my fault... always my fault... I'm not worth it... useless." Lily looked helpless, and Cass began sobbing into Albus' shoulder, James exchanging a glance with his brother. Nodding, he made to get up and speak to Scorpius, when he felt his mother's hand on his shoulder.

"Leave this one to your father," she whispered, her own eyes watery. Nodding, he turned his attention back to what was going on.

"Scorpius, listen to me. Scorpius!" Dad jerked him, gently, and finally seemed to be able to reach him.

"Yes, Uncle Harry," he said, his voice shaky, carrying with it the distinct tone of somebody who had tried to be strong for too long whilst breaking apart from the inside out.

"This is not your fault," said Dad, "Nobody is blaming you."

"I blame me," Scorpius replied.

"No," said Dad, more forcefully now. "This is not your fault. Nobody is angry with you. Listen to me, Scorp, this is not your fault, and you are not going anywhere. This is where you belong. This is your home. You _belong_ here."

"You really mean that, Uncle Harry?" Scorpius looked up at him, still sounding hollow, but there was a spark of hope in his grey eyes that James did not miss.

"I mean it, Scorp," Harry said.

"And you're not mad about me and Lily?"

"I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed that neither of you told me yourselves."

"I'm sorry, I just... I just."

"I know, Scor," Harry whispered, "I know you, and I raised you since you were five, so believe me, you may not be my blood, but you're just as good as a son to me." He wrapped his arms around the trembling boy, and Scorpius buried his face into Dad's shoulder, sobbing softly as Dad rubbed along his back.

Seventeen-years-old, James thought, and now, finally, Scorpius would be able to heal.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Family

His body aching, he slowly climbed out of the unfamiliar bed, stumbling forward at the dull pain in his injured leg. Gritting his teeth, he scanned the strange room for his wand and when he didn't find it he panicked slightly at the thought of being imprisoned again, before calming down when he realised that had Voldemort been the one to find him, he most certainly wouldn't have woken on such a soft, comfortable bed with his wounds obviously tended too. Remembering the patronus he had sent before blacking out, he wondered hopefully if he was with his children.

His Dark Mark burned lightly, looking at it he frowned at the bands of metal bound across his arm. On second glance however, he exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in obvious relief, the metal bands were covered in glimmering runes. Obviously the Order, whom he assumed where responsible for his rescue, had wised up regarding the use of runes in defensive magic. It had been Hermione's discovery, he remembered with a pang, a runic combination that could block off Voldemort's connection to their marks and prevent him tracking down renegade death eaters. Draco found himself feeling impressed that the Order had discovered how to use the runes on metal bands rather than the primitive method of carving them into ones skin.

Leaning against the wall to steady himself, he shakily made his way out the door as he decided to explore his new accommodations. He was under no delusions that he would readily be trusted, or if he would even be allowed to join the Order after his past misdeeds. He hoped though, that by delivering them the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff all those years ago, he had redeemed himself in their eyes.

The corridor outside the room he had been sleeping in was warm and homely, hearing sounds coming from downstairs, he slowly made his way to what he assumed was a living room. He froze suddenly as a figure stepped around the corner. He was older than Draco remembered, but there was no mistaking the dishevelled black hair or the lightning shaped scar. Oddly enough, he couldn't help feeling relief, his suspicions concerning his rescuers having been proved correct.

"You're awake Malfoy," said Potter in obvious surprise, watching as he swayed slightly trying to stay upright, "Merlin, you're dead on your feet, back to bed."

"How long have I been out Potter," said Draco as the other man helped him back to the room he had just left.

"A week. You haven't been asleep though, we were beginning to think you had been tortured into insanity." Potter helped him lay back down and instantly he felt better, the dizziness and fatigue he had been feeling since he stood up fading away.

"Harry," he said, surprising the other man by using his first name, "Thank you."

"It was no trouble Mal. . .Draco," Harry said, "We do have you to thank for recovering a Horcrux after all, patching you up was the least we could do."

Draco was unsure of how to ask his next question, taking a deep breath he looked up and opened his mouth to speak.

"How are . . .?"

"They're both fine Draco, Cassandra's been tending to you every day since we found you. Scorpius has been visiting regularly, they haven't forgotten you if that's what you're worried about."

"Thank you," he said again, "For looking after my children when I couldn't."

"It wasn't a problem, Scorp and Cass are family," Harry responded causing Draco's eyes to widen, he had never expected a Potter to refer to a Malfoy as kin.

"Can you tell me about them?" he asked, ignoring how odd it sounded for him to ask about his own children's personalities.

Harry chuckled to himself, "I can but I think it would be better if I told them you're awake." He stood and went to the door, "They're having dinner, I'll send them up."

"Harry. . . after I catch up with them, we need to talk."

Harry Potter nodded at his onetime enemy, and strode towards the kitchen.

(*)(*)(*)

James slammed his fists repeatedly against the heavy punching bag in the training room, working out his frustrations as sweat dripped down his brow and chest. Ever since he had left with his father to retrieve Mr. Malfoy he had thrown himself into his training, often spending the entire day engaged in physical or mental exercise, making sure to push himself to his limits every single day. It was his way of trying to numbing his guilt. The guilt he felt over taking him since his first field assignment. He cursed under his breath as the unwanted memories came flooding back.

_**The two of them apparated to a dilapidated building which was apparently the location that the patronus had originated from and cautiously took in their surroundings. Wands outstretched, the pair inspected the building for any sign of Draco Malfoy. Moving stealthily through the building, Harry took point as they approached the crumpled form of a gaunt, bloodstained man with matted blonde hair and ragged clothing. Harry crouched beside him, aiming his wand at the man's leg and muttering a simple healing spell whilst James stood defensively over them.**_

"_**There he is," came a yell and two young death eaters, no older than himself burst into the room. **_

"_**It's Potter," declared the second death eater, face twisting with glee at the sight of Harry kneeling beside Scorp's father. Yanking up his sleeve, the man tried to press his thumb to his mark.**_

_**A flash of green light flew through the room, striking him in the face and snuffing his life from him in an instant. James stared dumbfounded for a second, before realising that it had been him who had instinctively cast the killing curse. He looked at his wand in horror, his first instinct had been to kill . . .what did that say about him? Slashing his wand through the air quickly, he stunned the second eater and apparated back to Grimmauld Place with his father, unable to look him in the eyes. **_

_**Because he knew, his father who had always thought him the value of life and that killing was to be a last resort, had just watched him take a life without flinching. **_

"You missed dinner," said Scorpius suddenly entering the room, and making his way towards the exercise equipment.

"I wasn't really hungry," said James threw gritted teeth as he pummelled the punching bag.

"You missed lunch as well," was the only response he got as Scorp leaned against the wall behind him.

"I ate a big breakfast."

"Sure," Scorpius scoffed, "What's on your mind Jay?"

"Nothing," James muttered.

"Doesn't look like nothing."

"IT'S NOTHING!" yelled James and raising his fist to swing at Scorpius, catching himself at the last moment at the look of terror that flitted across the blondes face.

"Scorp, I'm sorry, I didn't think," he shook himself mentally, his guilt growing slightly.

"It's ok," he mumbled slowly, "I'll just go see if Al is busy."

James instantly felt terrible, this past week Scorp had been slowly coming out of his shell, he had been laughing and smiling more freely; joining Albus in pulling pranks on his other siblings; helping Cassandra with her potions and even spending time with Harry looking over books, helping him delve into the possible locations of the remaining horcruxes. He had been overcoming his insecurities to the point where even Teddy, who was always drowsy on various pain potions had noticed the change when they had went to visit at Shell Cottage the day before last. And now, because of him, he watched as the guarded expression returned to Scorp's stormy grey eyes.

"Scorpius, Ron never actually hit you did her?" asked James curiously trying to bite down on his anger, the blondes reaction to almost being punched had seemed pre-meditated, as though he had expected it before he even realised it was James.

Scorpius sudden gulp of panic as he turned to leave the room was all the answer James needed.

"Scorpius," he grabbed him on the shoulder to stop him, "Can we talk."

"Okay," mumbled Scorpius as he sat down on a nearby bench.

"I'm sorry I almost hit you mate, I just have a lot on my mind," began James.

"What's bothering you Jamie?" he asked quietly, there was no mistaking the concern in his voice. James couldn't help but smile slightly at the younger boy, even though he was really hurting, he still put the needs of others before himself.

"I killed someone," James answered, triggered by the blonde's use of his childhood nickname, "The day we rescued your dad, I hit somebody with the killing curse and I didn't even realise I had cast it till he was dead."

"We're fighting a war Jay," said Scorpius, shrugging mildly at the news .

"It's not that I killed him Scor, it's that I killed him without even realising what I was doing."

Scorpius paused for a moment, realising why James had been so distant since he got back from wherever they had found his father, "Why did you do it then?" he asked finally.

"I just knew I had to stop him, he was reaching for his mark . . . if he touched it then Voldemort would have been there."

"There you go then, you didn't kill him in cold blood. You killed him to protect yourself and your dad."

James thought about it for a moment, slowly beginning to feel better. When you put it that way, James knew he would cast a dozen killing curses involuntarily if it meant that his family stayed safe. Ever since he was a kid and Harry used to leave on missions, he had always made the same promise to his father, to look after his mother and siblings while Harry was away. Over time it had been ingrained into his consciousness, the need to protect the people that he loved.

"I'm really sorry I almost hit you mate, but thanks for this, I feel better thinking about it that way," James said before focusing fully on Scorpius, "Are you ok?"

"Yeah I'm good. It was just when you started yelling and your fist came flying at me. . ."

James looked at him curiously for a moment, "Where did he hit you? It's just that I've never seen any bruises."

Scorpius laughed humourlessly before offering a weak smile, "I've gotten really good at glamour charms Jay, that and pinching pain potions from Cass."

James nodded, comprehension dawning as he realised that Scorpius really and truly had suffered in silence. Breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself down, he made a silent promise to himself to never lose his temper at his brother again.

"I heard your dad's awake," James said in an effort to change the topic, "Aren't you going to go see him?"

"And say what exactly? How do you speak to a dad you haven't seen in twelve years, I mean honestly, Uncle Harry is more my father than my actual dad," said Scorpius bitterly.

"Teddy's father died in the war before he was even a year old, mum and dad were his godparents and they raised him. He's never going to get the chance to meet his actual parents you know, but you have that chance. Are you really going to waste it on resentment?" countered James, understanding where Scorpius was coming from.

"Why are you always right?" mocked Scorpius with a faint smile as he got to his feet.

"It's a big brothers job kiddo," grinned James as he slung an arm over the younger boy's shoulders companionably.

"James you reek," protested Scorpius, wrinkling his nose at the smell of sweat and shoving him away playfully before walking off to find Lily, promising himself that he would visit his father the next morning.

(*)(*)(*)

"Hey dad," said a voice from the doorway, drawing his attention away from the book he was reading to the youthful, blonde girl walking into his room. Despite her platinum locks and pale skin, so obviously marking her as a Malfoy, she was the spitting image of her mother at that age. There were few minor differences, apart from the colouring of course. For one, Hermione's hair had hung bushily around her face till she was eighteen whilst Cassandra's cascaded in soft blonde ringlets down her back. Despite it all, one only had to glance into the chocolate depths of his daughter's eyes to know who her mother had been.

"Cassie," he said in a strained voice, wondering what was he supposed to say to her? His throat suddenly was dry, his stomach twisting in hot lead at the sight of her, living and breathing proof that twelve years had really passed and that he had missed his daughter growing up.

"I missed you so much Cass, so, so much" he choked, in a voice thick with emotion. His eyes burning as he blinked to stave off the tears he knew would fall.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, concerned, "Do you need another pain potion?"

"I'm fine," he said, "How about you?"

"I'm fine," she smiled at him, "I didn't spend twelve years in a dungeon though."

He chuckled lightly at her, and before long they were speaking freely and Draco was elated to discover he shared so many interests with his daughter, the most fundamental of them being their shared loved of potions. She had excelled at potions as he had, though it would seem that she had long since surpassed him, much to his chagrin. It had initially surprised him to hear that she, a mere fifteen-year-old, had become the Order's resident apothecary. He soon felt a surge of pride at her words however; that she had discovered a way to stabilise Polyjuice Potion so that it could last for several hours at a time, that she had discovered a further two uses for dragon's blood, that she had even been able to synthesise an antidote to the Tears of Lys –one of the deadliest potions in the world-, it was overwhelming that his baby girl had achieved so much in so little time.

"How is Scorpius?" he asked suddenly, instantly regretting it as the laughter in her eyes died down and was replaced by a wary, guarded look.

"He's been doing better," she said cautiously.

"What do you mean by that?" Draco asked curiously, worriedly wondering about his son.

"Well dad, you see, not everybody in the Order really accepted Scorp and I because well . . . because we're Malfoys," she said apologetically causing Draco to frown. He hadn't realised that the Order would persecute children because of their name.

"Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry were great though, but Aunt Gin's brother wasn't so welcoming. He's been very vocal about his hatred of us too, the ferret spawn as he so succinctly put it, and it never really bothered me because everyone else just ignored him or told him to shut up. And none of us saw it, but he really got to Scorp and you know how Scorp is, keeping everything bottled up. . ." she paused, blushing at her mistake, hoping she had not embarrassed her father, but when he waved for her to continue she did, "He felt like he didn't belong, that he was useless and we never knew till James accidently saw Scorp's memories in Uncle Harry's pensieve. Aunt Ginny basically disowned Ron after that but the way Scorp saw it, he had just caused a rift in the family and he just broke down. But he's doing better now, but given the circumstances," she tried to explain the situation to her father.

"He isn't ready to see me," said Draco through gritted teeth, feeling quite ready to go Weasel hunting. It was one thing to hold a childhood grudge against him for his behaviour whilst at school, but Scorpius and Cassandra hadn't even been conceived back then.

"Don't worry about it too much dad, he missed you as much as I did," she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, before reaching into her pocket and retrieving a vial of amber liquid.

"Now take your potion and sleep," she said, "You still have a lot of healing to do."

When he opened his mouth to protest, she gave him a mock glare before saying, "Take the potion, or I'll transfigure you back into a ferret."

(*)(*)(*)

"Edward Remus Lupin, what the hell do you think you're doing?" asked Victoire crossly as she stood in the doorway, her eyes shooting daggers at the sight of her boyfriend _walking_ unsteadily across the room.

"I need a bath Vic," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I'm stick of using cleaning and freshening charms on myself."

She sighed sympathetically; he had been forced to remain in bed for the past week since he had woken, and he had been there for weeks previously. For a man like Teddy, who loved the outdoors and being out and about, a man who was always wild and active, it must have been torture to have to be bedridden for so long. She couldn't imagine how it must feel to be constrained as he had been. Still, she needed him to stay in bed and heal fully but deep down she knew that short of tying him down, he would be up as soon as her back was turned again.

"How about I just give you a sponge bath," she said, trying to compromise.

Teddy smirked and quirked his eyebrow at her, swaying slightly on his feet before steadying himself quickly, an action that was not missed by Victoire as he continued on his way to the bathroom. Throwing up her hands in exasperation, she hurried forward so that she could steady him as he walked. Feeling slightly relieved that he wasn't being forced back into bed, he slung an arm over her shoulders as she helped him forwards.

"Thanks Vic," he said as the tub started filling with water. He began to strip, before suddenly hesitating as he lifted the hem of his t-shirt, "Could you leave now?"

This time it was her turn to quirk an eyebrow, "I'm pregnant Ted, it isn't as if I haven't seen you naked before."

"I don't want you to see me with these scars," he mumbled under his breath, looking embarrassed as he tried not to meet her eyes. Time seemed to stand still for a minute before he felt her hand on his cheek, drawing him close for a kiss, his lips meeting hers, softly and sensually. Pulling away from him, she pulled her sweater up over her head to expose her lacy black bra and slightly swollen belly. Teddy felt himself freeze at the sight, his eyes drawn to the faint white scars across her shoulder, the jagged raised line across her collarbone. His eyes moved to her face, the scar above her eyebrow faded but still clearly visible against her otherwise smooth, clear skin.

He instantly felt like a git, as if he were the only one who had been scarred by the war. He didn't hesitate again as she helped him out his clothes, flinching only as he sank into the bath, the hot water scalding his still healing back. His hand brushed over the delicate curve of her belly, showing of the smallest of bulges as she slid onto him, the water serving as sufficient lubrication despite their hasty lack of preparation and foreplay. Moaning softly at the erotic feeling, she kissed him full on the lips, his hands twisting in her sleek blonde hair, stark in contrast to his own vivid turquoise. Her hands explored him, tenderly stroking his scarred back as she moved, bucking her hips in a quick, hard rhythm.

The water steamed around them, as Victoire lay against Teddy's bare chest, her body aching from the urgency of their lovemaking, her neck and breasts stinging slightly as her lovers love-bites began to leave soft bruises. The naive part of her wished that the two of them could stay here together till the war was over, that she could remain safe in his arms till Voldemort crumbled to ash and dust.

"So a baby huh?" he murmured, drawing circles on her hips underwater with his fingers.

"It's a boy," she whispered into his chest, "Mum did the gender reveal charm yesterday."

He broke into a broad grin, pulling her in closer despite the tugging pain in his back, his hand coming to rest protectively over her stomach.

(*)(*)(*)

A/N Sorry for this chapter being so fluffy, but it's a filler. I'm editing chapter 6 for publication tonight, we're finally going to learn more about Hermione and Draco, and yes to answer the questions I've been receiving, the Malfoy family reunion is just a few chapters away. Please Read and Review.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**Full Moon**

"Absolutely not," screamed Ginny in frustration at the three boys standing in front of her, ready to yank her hair out by the roots at their determined expressions.

Tonight was the first full moon since Teddy had been attacked and the Order had recently discovered that the werewolf, Fenrir Greyback would be hunting near a muggle suburb in Manchester. Greyback, being one of Voldemorts most trusted lieutenants, rarely travelled alone but the Order knew for a certainty that he would only have a small guard with him, due to the circumstances surrounding his transformation. It would never do for him to lose control and kill one of his loyal followers, not that the lycanthrope felt any camaraderie or loyalty to his fellow death eaters, but because Voldemort would punish him furiously for turning against his own. There were few rules amongst the death eaters, but one of the major ones was that bloodshed amongst them was to be discouraged on pain of death. Naturally as one of the Dark Lords inner circle, Fenrir would probably get away with nothing more than a brief torturing session but it was fairly obvious that it was something he would be keen to avoid.

Therefore the Order had decided to send a squadron of fighters to Manchester tonight in order to finally put an end to his savage reign of terror. Not only would the loss of Greyback be the first real blow to Voldemort's power, it was no secret that Fenrir was the one who had bound the other werewolves to Voldemorts armies. Harry himself was confident that with him disposed of, many of the lycanthropes could be convinced to take a more neutral position in the war. There was also hope amongst the Order that some of the wild wolves would join the Order, as Remus Lupin had.

Ginny steadfastly supported the decision to kill Greyback, however what she did not support was the decision to allow James to lead the attack. And naturally, seeing as the Order seemed to have no qualms on driving her to her wits end, Albus and Scorpius were going with him. She thanked Merlin for small favours though, when Lily had stood up and announced that she would be accompanying them, Ginny had been delighted that most of the Order had immediately shot her down because she was underage. Lily was currently sulking in her bedroom, after a short but furious argument with her mother.

"Teddy barely survived his last mission! Your father's missed death by an inch more times than I'd care to remember," she ranted, "You three are staying right here!"

"Never mind that you've been fighting this war since you were fourteen," snapped James halting her tirade, whilst he was hot-headed he rarely ever raised his voice to his mother. It was evident that he was going, with or without her blessing. She looked at them in defeat; James was nineteen while Albus and Scorpius were seventeen; all three were of age.

"You can't keep us in here forever mum," said Albus, "Besides, we're not going in alone."

"But Greyback! Why couldn't you three just choose to go scouting, or escorting a new member to a safe-house?" she raved, not backing down despite knowing she was fighting a losing battle. "Draco!" she snapped suddenly, turning to face the elder Malfoy, who had been watching the scene with a slightly bemused expression from his seat on the couch, "Back me up here!"

Since Draco had arrived at Grimmauld Place he had getting along with the family quite well, and had bonded closely with both his children. His skill at potions had led him to spend many a night in the room that Cass had converted into a laboratory, while he made it a point to join Scorpius in the training room every afternoon. It should have embarrassed him, that both his children were considerably better than him at their respective fields, but instead it filled with a sense of elation and pride. He had also been quite impressed with the progress Scorp had made on a particularly difficult branch of transfiguration, especially when he discovered that the boy had been working on it in secret. The fact that he had been the first person his son had confided in was the solidifier in their rapidly growing relationship, and he had found himself speaking to Scorpius about things he had never spoken about to anyone, including his torture at the hands of the Dark Lord. Despite not being around Scorpius for twelve years, he had watched his son grow from strength to strength, slowly but surely overcoming his instabilities.

His temper had flared briefly after the middle Potter, Albus -Harry really was a sentimental person, he mused -, had turned his platinum blonde hair to a vivacious bubblegum pink in a prank gone wrong. Apparently, he had been aiming for Scorpius (Draco wasn't entirely sure he was convinced) and he had been furious at the hideous look. Soon enough though, he had seen the funny side, and it had helped when Cassandra had threatened to hex him in his sleep if he tried anything remotely vengeful against her Albie, as she called him before blushing furiously at her admission. It was slightly disconcerting to him to know that not one, but both his offspring were romantically involved with Potters, but he had taken a liking to Lily quickly enough. She had a sharp tongue and a quick wit, and could trade insults as good as she got.

"Look I can't say I'm thrilled that Scorp is going against Greyback," he held up his hands in surrender at the scowl on the Weaselette's face, "But honestly, I have faith in his abilities." He couldn't help but smirk at the appreciative look on his son's face.

Realising she was not going to get any assistance, she bit her lip and turned to look at the trio again, and noticed that despite their determined looks they each carried a spark of hesitation in their eyes. Albus and Scorpius would never go if she outright forbade them, they held to much respect for her opinion than to go without her blessing, but at the same time they would resent her for it. Sighing in resignation, she said, "Look after each other out there, that's all I can really ask."

(*)(*)(*)

"_**She's alive?" he asked, stunned in a voice choked with emotion, at the frozen form of Hermione Malfoy, frozen in time as the Dark Lord smirked. . .raising his wand to torture him once more. . .**_

The two men drew themselves from the pensieve and Harry stared at his one time rival in stunned silence, because he had just seen the evidence with his own eyes. Hermione was alive. How was it even possible? Twelve years ago she had gone to her death, leaving her children in his care and yet here she stood, frozen in some sort of impenetrable crystal that glowed with very powerful magica; aura.

"Ancient magic," said Draco as the questioning look on Harry's face. He smirked to himself at the incredulous look on the other man's face, the man who seemed so stunned he had yet to speak a word. He imagined he had been in a similar situation the first time he had seen her prison. The one consolation he had was that Voldemort could not harm her, his own dark mark had blazed in furious pain when in the presence of the crystal, he seriously doubted if the Dark Lord could fare any better.

"What was that she was holding?" Harry asked finally, thinking of the ornately carved platinum box that his best friend had held in her hands, the platinum carved with tiny scathingly dark runes and embossed with massive sapphires.

Draco quirked his eyebrow, a smirk playing on his face, "Really Potter, you've been researching ancient magical artefacts for years now."

"I've never come across it, it radiates dark energy like I've never felt before. Even in a memory, I felt as if I were in the presence of Dementors," Harry said honestly, wondering how Hermione had hold of such a powerful dark artefact.

"It's extremely ancient, it's old enough to predate Merlin for one thing," Draco continued, nodding at Harry's response, he had felt the same hopelessness when confronted with the box, "It's Metistopheles Soul Container," he shrugged. He wasn't really concerned about the artefact; despite its importance he was more concerned about rescuing Hermione.

At the blank look on Harry's face, he rolled his eyes before beginning to elaborate.

"The container is said to have belonged to the demon Metisopheles, don't ask me how demon's are involved in wizarding history because it was Hermione who did most of the research. Basically, it has the ability to temporarily house and stabilise a human soul. Now we know Voldemort has a seven piece soul, but you've already destroyed quite a few pieces of them. His solution was to create more horcruxes, but unfortunately for him his soul had been so damaged that it couldn't remain outside his body long enough to be properly sealed into a new horcrux."

"So basically, he needs that box to make more horcruxes," said Harry, realising the significance of the container. If the Dark Lord got it then it would make defeating him nigh on impossible, every time the Order would find and destroy a Horcrux, a new one could be made to replace it.

"If we can find it and destroy it, then we not only stop Voldemort from making more of his little horcruxes but we also can get Hermione back," said Draco wistfully, in his mind, if his wife was rescued then his family would be whole again.

"Do you have any idea how to get her out?" asked Harry.

"Its ancient magic and ancient magic always has a price. . . " he drifted of ominously.

"The only form of ancient magic I know off is the protection my mother invoked when I was a baby," said Harry.

"And how exactly did she invoke it Harry?" asked Draco in a patronizing voice, his voice bitter and resigned.

"She died to . . ." he paused, comprehension filling his face.

"To free Hermione from the spell, somebody she loves has to die. . ." Draco trailed off in a hollow voice, and Harry's jaw dropped. It was obvious from the look on the other man's face that he didn't intend to survive the upcoming rescue mission.

(*)(*)(*)

"He's got three people with him," whispered Albus in a hushed tone, slipping out from under the Invisibility cloak as he arrived to their location.

The six of them sat around the strange living room, which they had claimed as a base of operations after confounding the owner, a short, pudgy man who vastly resembled a bipedal boar. The twins, Lorcan and Lysander had quickly set up several protective enchantments on the premises in case their position was compromised.

The Scamander twins had long since taken up residence at Weasley Manor, which had previously been owned by Great Aunt Muriel. Following the old dame's death and the Burning of the Burrow, Molly and Arthur had hastened to move their family to a safer locale, and Weasley Manor had subsequently become the Order's largest safe-house; Molly had seen her family grow much larger within the spacious confines of the house, as many youngsters had moved in as the war left them orphaned or cut off from their parents. In the case of the Scamander boys, their father had been killed during an attack on the old Lovegood Property, whilst their mother Luna had been incarcerated in Azkaban for her efforts in resisting the Dark Lord. For both boys it was their first field mission as part of the Order and both their nerves were on end, knowing that whilst they were quite skilled in the ways of magic, they had never mastered the art of duelling as so many others had.

"How far?" asked Dominique, she had been the most hesitant to join them on their mission, Fenrir Greyback was a particularly sore point for the children of Bill Weasley, who had been savaged by the werewolf during Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts. It didn't add to her confidence that he was directly responsible for Teddy being half werewolf, she had seen the effects the full moon had on her sister's consort first hand and it chilled her heart that this monster could cause people such permanent, lingering pain. Dominique had finally agreed to accompany them, after Louis had pointed out that she would have the opportunity to avenge their father, much to Fleur's obvious dismay. In the end, the French woman had been forced to concede that her children were growing up and she couldn't keep them safe at home forever.

"Two blocks, there's a family with a little girl," Albus shuddered despite himself, feeling sickened at the thought. It was common knowledge that Greyback had a penchant for young children, but to see the girl with his own eyes whilst knowing what the werewolf intended for her . . . it made his skin crawl in revulsion.

"We have a twenty minute window," muttered Dominique darkly from her seat near the window, she had been shooting furtive glances at the moon since they had arrived. It currently neared its apex, but was masked by a thick layer of clouds which made it difficult for to plot its exact location.

"Dom, take the twins and circle around. We'll hit them hard from the front and you can take them in the rear," said James, rising from the couch.

"Let's do it then," shrugged Lysander nervously drawing his wand.

The night was cool and still around them, the three boys stealthily moving forward, making certain to stay out of the vivid glare of streetlights. Down the road, they could just make out four indistinct silhouettes, looking up at a darkened house. The street brightened slowly as the full moon slipped from behind the clouds, throwing the boys features into sharp relief and diminishing the already scanty cover.

Scorpius cursed softly under his breath and tugged his hood over his head; his blonde hair would stand out in stark contrast to the darkened street, his wand held before him he moved silently towards the unsuspecting death eaters. The blonde glanced at James, waiting impatiently for the older boy to give them the signal to attack. Screw having a twenty minute window, the moon had just reached its apex.

James nodded quickly, and all hell broke loose.

"Stupefy"

"Impedimenta" the Potter boys spells whipped through the night air, quickly bouncing of the shielding ward surrounding the death eaters.

"Incisura," yelled the Malfoy heir, the dark spell flying from his lips without a moment's hesitation. The younger generation of Order members had long since come to the conclusion that they had to fight fire with fire to succeed, their parents had fought valiantly and honourably, and they had lost. A purple arc of energy burst from his wand, and the ward surrounding Greyback and his minions shattered.

Curses sprang from the Order member's wands as they broke into a run, the death eaters twisting from the positions around a rangy, grey haired man who lay writhing on the ground.

Flashes of light filled the streets as they broke off into individual duels, losing track of the transforming werewolf on the ground as they fought for their lives. They were skilled and had spent years training, but this was their first duel against opponents who wouldn't hesitate to kill them.

"It's the Potter boys," came a cackle as the slimy man duelling James recognized his opponents, "and they've brought a Malfoy!" A flash of golden light missed his head by an inch as Dominque appeared behind him, hurling hexes at his unguarded back. The Scamanders were on her heels, their wands sparking as vibrant blue stinging hexes filled the air.

"Bombarda," snarled the lumpy looking woman that Albus was duelling, the blasting curse striking the ground at his feet and sending the younger Potter flying backwards in an explosion of tar and concrete. There was a dull thud has his head struck the pavement and he lay crumpled and unmoving. Then Lysander was there, his dirty blonde hair flashing in the moonlight as he struck the witch with a stunning spell to the chest. Ducking and weaving through the storm of ricocheting spells, Scorpius struggled to gain the upper hand in his duel, he recognised his opponents face from the old wanted posters that Uncle Harry kept ; Antonin Dolohov.

Suddenly, the night was torn by a shriek of pain, Greyback had transformed and the rangy werewolf had pounced onto Dominique, even in the dull glare of the streetlights it was clear that his mangy snout dripped bandanas of blood. Scorpius didn't realise what he was doing till he heard Lorcan and Lysander yell his name, the twins having taken up his fight with Dolohov as he himself sped towards the werewolf. His own wand went spiralling from his hand as he ran, a stray disarming spell sending it clattering down the road. Snarling silently, he sprang into the air, his body morphing as he slammed into the werewolf.

"Sectumsempra," yelled James, his sleazy looking opponent falling to the ground as heavy cuts slashed across his body, a puddle of blood quickly forming around the dying death eater. He looked up just in time to see Scorpius leap through the air, his slender yet toned form shifting into that of a sleek, white arctic wolf and slamming bodily into Greyback. He stared, forgetting for a moment where he was as he processed this latest revelation. _Animagus,_ the word slowly playing through his mind.

The sight of blood blossoming across Scorp's snowy coat broke him from his reverie, and instantly he advanced on the snarling pair, till the witch, Alecto Carrow, who had recovered from Lysander's stunner, came at him, dark curses raining from the stubby wand.

Scorpius growled, his hackles raised as he squared off against the much larger beast. He was under no delusions; he didn't have the skill or the strength to maintain this form for very long, despite having practised for years. He was also aware that Greyback was stronger and more experienced in his lupine body, whilst the only thing he had as an advantage was his speed and agility. He sprang, his side throbbing as blood pulsed from his shredded skin, and sank his canines into the werewolf's foreleg, gagging at the stale taste. A clawed paw swiped his muzzle, and he howled in pain as he leapt backwards, weak from blood loss. Forcing himself to his feet and struggling to maintain his animal form, he bared his teeth menacingly at the advancing lycanthrope.

"Avada Kedrava," he heard a familiar voice yell, and a jet of green light flashed from Albus Potter's wand causing Fenrir Greyback to crumple to the ground. Scorpius yelped gratefully at his best mate as he returned to human form, before losing consciousness in a growing pool of his own blood.

(*)(*)(*)

Ginny frowned as she paced the kitchen, the mug of coffee on the counter long since gone cold. _They should be back by now_ , she fretted, shooting a glare at the grandfather clock which had just struck one. One would think that Ginny would be used to waiting by now, she was the youngest in a family that had been as committed to the Order as the Lestrange's had been committed to the Dark Side and more often than not, she had been forced to stay behind whilst her loved ones went to war. She herself had been on the forefront of many of the earlier battles of the war, but she had rarely left on missions since James had been born. After she had Lily, she had stopped going on mission's altogether, raising four children – later six, once Cass and Scorp arrived – turned into a full time occupation.

Her worried thoughts were interrupted by a silvery lion, her eldest sons Patronus, leaping into the kitchen through the open window and landing on the kitchen table. The king of beasts padded silently towards her, before speaking in her eldest son's voice.

"Dom's been bitten, Greyback's dead, Scor and Al knocked up pretty badly, we're coming home." The lion bowed regally as it faded into wisps of silvery smoke, leaving Ginny hurrying upstairs, shrieking for Lily and Cassandra to get the medical kits.

(*)(*)(*)

A/N

Read and Review Guys, Come on I know we can get to fifty reviews if you all review. I'm getting a ton of hits on this story, after all. Oh and if you will, please check out my new two-shot called Ruin Me. It's an Albus/Scorpius and also my first attempt at writing a slash fic. Anyway the writer in me wants to know if it's any good. Its rated T, so not really explicit. Also its very angsty.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**Domino**

The grove was still and tranquil, a circle of roughly hewn stones bordering the tree line and filling the forest with an aura of wild, untameable energy. The Order members bristled in disquiet, their disillusionment charms casting shimmering, spectral shadows between the trees as they waited, their wands drawn and at the ready for any signs of trouble. Waiting alone within the circle, stood Dominique, her scarred throat marring her veela heritage, her blonde hair whipping around her drawn face, and casting her with an ethereal, feral beauty. Beside her, leaning on a crutch, stood Teddy Lupin, his blue hair hanging over his troubled eyes. He had been one of the few people against this meeting, his past dealings with werewolves having left a bitter taste in his mouth at having to join forces with them. However, as one of the few carriers of the werewolf curse within the Order, he had been forced to attend. He bristled slightly, remembering the meeting that had led them here. . .

_The room was chaotic, full to the brim with voices and babbling as the various Order members filled the grand dining room of Weasley Manor, helping themselves to the delicious snacks that Molly Weasley had spent the entire night preparing. It was a very rare occurrence for the Order to gather in such strength, even for such meetings each safe-house usually sent a few representatives as there had always been precious little to discuss. An assassination here, a scouting mission there and if they were lucky, a possible horcrux location to investigate, it was no surprise that many families who had once steadfastly supported the Order had long since grown disillusioned and left the country, abandoning their fellows to what they viewed as a long lost battle._

_Since the death of Fenrir Greyback however, there seemed to be a breath of new life amongst the Order as for the first time, many of its members felt a sense of burgeoning hope. The first real blow to Voldemorts power since the destruction of Hufflepuff's cup had been the ray of light in the ever darkening sky and many people had been eager to see what was to be their next plan of attack. The surprising thing was that more and more people had taken to looking at James as their leader, his having led and planned the daring attack against Greyback had allowed him to significantly eclipse his father, much to his obvious embarrassment._

_In Lily's eyes however, it seemed to be the most logical course of action, she loved her father dearly but she couldn't deny that his strong sense of morality had been extremely counter-productive to the war effort. He had been steadfastly against the idea of cornering Greyback in a muggle suburb, and was content with his plan to find and destroy the Horcruxes, his view of the matter being that if they could kill Voldemort, then the death eaters would be defeated. Lily herself held a different perception, perhaps in the early days of the war it would have been prudent to simply find a way to kill The Dark Lord, but his hold had now been deeply ingrained into the wizarding community. Fenrir Greyback, Bellatrix Lestrange, Apothecary Phaelynne, Golgomath, these were amongst his most favoured followers, should Voldemort fall, she had no doubt his inner circle would gladly continue to implement their sinister machinations. At the last Order meeting she had attended, she had been impressed that many of her generation were thinking along the same lines as herself. Harry Potter had fought with honour, he had fought with nobility, he had fought with valour . . .and Harry Potter had lost. She wasn't about to make the same mistake._

_The room gradually became silent as people found their seats, many of them shooting curious glances at Draco Malfoy, who was seated near Harry and Ginny. It was common knowledge to the Order that the Malfoys had defected and assisted the Order by delivering to them one of Voldemorts horcruxes. Despite this, and despite having watched the two youngest Malfoys grow up before their eyes, many of the Order did not trust Draco, choosing to hold to the age old stereotype that his family were the most fervent supporters of the Dark Lord._

"_We have much to discuss," began Harry without any preamble, "For one, my niece Dominique had come to me with a plan to gain the werewolves allegiance," he paused slightly at the furious glares that both Fleur and Bill were giving him, "I however do not know her intentions as she has indicated that she will share her thoughts with us tonight. Dominique if you will."_

_Every eye in the room was now fixed on the blonde girl, who shifted uneasily at being the focal point of everybody's attention. The scars on her throat were pink and livid under the glare of the brightly lit room, thankfully, her t-shirt hid the bite-marks across her breast and shoulders. Despite Cassandra pumping her body full of concentrated doses of wolfsbane the contamination had sunk in and she now carried the werewolf curse. It would seem that Lycanthropy was becoming a trademark for her specific branch of the Weasley family. It was largely thanks to her new furry problem that she had healed so quickly, the genes of a lycanthrope stitching and mending her flesh faster than a human would have been able to._

"_We look at werewolves and we see them as blights upon our world, we never really consider that they have a social structure amongst themselves," said Dominique, her eyes flickering hesitantly towards her father._

"_But werewolves are solitary creatures by nature," said Angelina Weasley from across the table._

"_In recent times yes, but originally their society ran along the same lines as common wolves, they ran in packs and followed an Alpha," the blonde continued, quite pleased that her time spent healing had not been wasted, she had devoured every bit of information concerning the Lycanthropic species that had been available in the vast library in Grimmauld Place._

"_What are you suggesting Dom?" asked Victoire sceptically, her hands intertwined with Teddy's._

"_Well," she looked sheepishly determined now, "When an Alpha dies, his Beta takes command of the pack. I suspect that the wolves are still loyal to Voldemort because Greybacks second in command, Grey, has similar cravings to his former pack leader. But the last werewolf turned by the fallen Alpha has always had the power to challenge the Beta for dominance over the entire pack."_

_The room was silent for a minute as the message behind her words sank in, and it wasn't long before Bill Weasley exploded._

"_I forbid it," he yelled, "I will not condone you having a bleeding pissing contest with a bunch of filthy werewolves."_

"_You can't forbid me dad, I am of age, the choice is mine to make and the risk is mine to take," said Dominique unflinchingly, her eyes daring anyone one else to stop her._

_Bill looked about to say something more when Fleur rested a hand on her husband's arm warningly, "Dom," she said quietly, "What you are suggesting is. . ."_

"_Have any of you noticed we are losing the war?" asked Dominique pointedly, "The werewolves are crucial to us ever hoping to end this bloody war and I've been given the opportunity to turn this curse into a means of obtaining their support. I will do this."_

_Harry sighed loudly to himself, her plan had its merits but if it went wrong . . . _

"_The question is," said James quite loudly, "How many of us are going with her."_

_There was a tremendous show of hands around the room, and whilst Dominique and James picked out who would accompany them, nobody but Fleur and Victoire noticed Bill storm out of the room . . . and only Scorpius noticed when another red-head entered the room shortly afterwards._

"_OI! Why is there a bleeding death eater here?" yelled Ronald as he entered, gesturing wildly at Draco, who had just volunteered to be amongst those accompanying Dominique in her mission._

"_He is a member of the Order Ronald," said Ginny in a patronizing voice, she was still very angry at her brother for his behaviour towards Scorpius and Cassandra. Since their last encounter, Ronald had remained at Weasley Manor, refusing to set foot across the threshold into Grimmauld Place. The Potter matriarch was proud that Scorpius, although slightly paler than usual, was able to meet her brother's glare unflinchingly whilst Lily held his hand reassuringly. _

"_The Order. . . A member?" Ron looked as if he were about to have a stroke, when Molly Weasley quickly stood and whisked her son to the other end of the room, sending apologetic looks at the three Malfoys. Molly had taken to both Scorp and Cass quite quickly after they had first arrived at Grimmauld Place, quickly stepping into grandmother mode and smothering them with warmth and affection, looking at them no differently than her biological grandchildren, her reasoning being that she had been a second mother to Hermione. Her need to feed and nurture had only grown with age and to this day, she maintained that Scorpius needed a good "feeding up" whilst Cass needed more sun to get rid of that awfully pale and peaky skin of hers._

"_So on to the second point of this meeting," said Harry in an attempt to dispel the awkwardness that permeated the room, "Draco, if you will?" he relaxed in his chair as he handed the reins to his one time nemesis. _

_Draco took a deep breath to calm himself, raised an eyebrow at the furious glares he was receiving from Ron and said in a firm, clear voice. . ._

"_Hermione Malfoy is alive."_

_The commotion and uproar his statement caused was deafening_.

Dominique's breath caught slightly as the first werewolf entered the clearing, followed closely by a cluster of hesitant looking followers, roughly thirty in all, the largest gathering of lycanthropes that the wizarding world had seen in a long time. There was a chorus of low pops, as around the circle the Order unveiled themselves, stepping from the shadowy camouflage of the eerie forest. The leading wolf snarled softly at the turn of events, the Order outnumbered them two-to-one and by the grim looks that many held, they would not hesitate to kill.

"You said you would be coming alone pup," snarled the grimy looking man, his yellow eyes gleaming dangerously at the Order.

"You said the same," responded Dominique levelly, her hand tightening around her wand.

"We have learned to never trust the words of a witch."

"I am no witch, the curse flows through my veins as it does in yours," she said, ignoring the torn look on her father's face. Bill Weasley's brow creased in pain at his youngest daughter's words, his daughter who had become the thing he despised most in the world. He had been the most vocal in the debate concerning the task force that would be sent against Fenrir Greyback, he had not wanted his Domino to have to face the beast that haunted him at every full-moon. He carried the contamination and during full moons, he was forced to dine on meat so rare it still bled during, his wolfish cravings overtaking his mind with their feral desires. Wolfsbane was his solace, the only thing that kept him sane, that kept him from losing control and attacking his family. His hatred for the lupine species ran bone deep, a hatred that had grown and festered since he had lost his daughter to them. He was only here today because, despite her predicament, she was still his daughter.

"Very well then young wolf, I am Lucian Grey, leader of werewolves," he extended his hand, his filthy fingernails resembling claws in the growing twilight.

"Dominique Weasley, the last werewolf turned by Fenrir Greyback," she shook his hand briefly, her face betraying none of her underlying disgust. She knew that by identifying herself as such, she would make it very clear what she intended.

"You will not have our fealty, blood-traitor. We came as a courteousy, to offer you a place in our ranks. To fight in the name of the Dark Lord as all free werewolves should," he scowled at her, not noticing the nervous glances many of his followers shot at each other.

"Your followers do not share your sentiment Grey," said Dominique coolly, inwardly thanking Cassandra for the Calming-Draught the younger witch had given her. Of all the children of Bill and Fleur, she alone had inherited the famous Weasley temper, a trait she shared with her hot-headed cousins, James and Fred II. Right now, her body was tense, the words of a curse hovering on the very tip of her tongue, the only thing keeping her in check being the soothing bliss of the pale blue potion.

"Fenrir Greyback bound the werewolves to himself, so that we are loyal to each other. I am their Alpha now, they will serve as I command them," he said, shrugging away the displeased glares of his followers.

"You call that loyalty Grey? I speak for the Order when I call it servitude," said Teddy Lupin, his eyes flashing with fire, his hair fading to a deep red. There were muttered agreements from the wizards surrounding the circle, and a few nods from the werewolves themselves.

"Then fight me half-breed, put away your pathetic stick and show your paltry strength," snarled Lucian, his jaw set into a harsh sneer.

"You will not be fighting him," Dom's expression was determined, "You will fight me."

(*)(*)(*)

"You should stop pacing Al," said Cassandra, her chocolate brown eyes glancing up from her cauldron. She was currently following one of her father's untested theories, a new elixir that would be capable of erasing dark magic. Cass had been delving into such a potion for several months prior to her father's arrival at Grimmauld Place, however she had only made real headway when he had suggested she incorporate Phoenix Tears, one of the rarest and most powerful healing substances imaginable. Hopefully, once the elixir was perfected, it would be sufficient to break the dark energy which stemmed from Draco's dark mark.

"My brother and father are in the middle of werewolf territory and I'm stuck here like a freaking invalid," he snapped, instantly regretting losing his temper at the hurt look in her eyes.

"Scorpius is still healing from his fight with Greyback, my father has been stuck in a dungeon for twelve years and they're both there, how do you think I feel?" she asked coldly, as her potion hissed and turned inky black. _Another Failed Attempt_.

"I'm sorry Cassie, it's just so frustrating," he said, "What kind of sorry excuse for a wizard gets his skull cracked so badly on his first mission that he can't leave home for weeks?"

"You killed Fenrir Greyback, the most savage werewolf to walk England since medieval times Al, you saved my brother's life, you saved Dom's life, you should be proud of that," said Cassandra, as she rose from her desk and walked towards him, "I'm proud of you."

"I still let got knocked out by Alecto Carrow of all people," he said despondently.

"On her first mission, Aunt Ginny broke her ankle and couldn't walk for a week. Teddy still has back pains from Bellatrix's curse, Uncle Neville got sent to Azkaban after the last mission he went on," he felt her wrap her arms around his waist comfortingly, "The important thing is that you came home."

"I had somebody important to come back too," he kissed her lightly on her forehead.

"Who?" she teased as she looked up at him.

"Scorpius, you know how we love each other," he said in a serious voice, grinning lightly as she laughed.

"I'm going to bed," she laughed, "You're free to sleep in my brother's room if you miss him."

Still grinning, he scooped her up in his arms, ignoring her light-hearted protests and carried her to his room. Their room, considering that Cass rarely slept in her own bedroom anymore, usually content to fall asleep in Al's arms after a heavy snogging session.

"Why would I want to do that when I have you?" he smirked at her, dropping her onto the bed as he undressed for bed. Still smiling from their conversation, he slipped under the covers, loping an arm around her as he pulled her close. He would never admit it, but he had never slept better in his life than when he fell asleep holding his girlfriend.

She lay beside him, losing herself in his emerald eyes as she leaned in for a goodnight kiss. Slowly, the kiss grew heated, his hands loosing themselves in her soft curls as she trailed her fingers down his spine. She bit down gently, nipping at his lower lip before she opened her mouth to allow his tongue entry, a low moan spilling from her as their tongues fought for dominance.

The kiss broke all too soon, as Albus drew away from her slowly, a tiny droplet of blood smudged against his injured lips. Cassandra's face was flushed, her breathing heavy as she ran her hand across his bare chest, her brown eyes dark with lust.

"Albus, I want you," she murmured, her blush deepening at her lewd implication.

"Wow. Really? Blimey Cass, are you sure?" he asked, his hand slowly stroking its way down her side till it reached the hem of her tank-top.

"Yes," she whispered, her lips crushing against his in an explosion of desire and lust.

The kiss broke once, as she pulled her top over her head, before their tongues slid together once more, his hand snaking around her waist to rest on her lower back, his free hand reaching up to cup her breast through the flimsy fabric of her bra. Cass moaned at the sensation, losing herself in his loving caresses whilst he lost himself in her.

Later, much later, as they both lay spent, his head buried in the nape of her neck as he inhaled her rich scent, his body relaxing over hers as he sank over her, before realising that he may be hurting her by lying over her with all his weight.

Slowly rolling of her, he pulled her into a deep embrace, his arms wrapped around her as she cuddled into him.

"I love you Cass," he murmured as she settled her head on his chest, their legs intertwined in post-coital bliss.

"I love you too Al," she said as they drifted to sleep, their worries and concerns forgotten, lost in the dreams of each other.

(*)(*)(*)

Dominique stumbled, her split lip bleeding freely as he regained her composure, lashing out quickly with her clenched fist, smirking despite herself as she felt the older werewolf's nose break. Cursing vehemently, he tackled her, his claw-like fingernails digging into her shoulders, breaking the skin in half a dozen places. Quickly, she brought up her knees, kicking him hard in the belly as they fell, sending him flying off her. Lucian Grey had underestimated the wiry strength of the blonde girl, her feminine silhouette having hidden her distinctly masculine skills in melee combat. She had after all, grown up in a close knit family with many male relatives her own age and had never been afraid to get physical with them during arguments. She was the tom-boy of the Weasley family, preferring wrestling with James or Freddie to dressing up and styling her hair.

She had gained the upper hand now, holding Lucian in a headlock as she tightened her grip around his throat, flexing her arms as he gasped for breath, his body weakening slowly as he lost oxygen. She heard a yell of outrage, it sounded like her uncle George, when she felt a fist smash into her face sending her careening through the air. Looking up, her head spinning, she glared in disbelief. Two of Lucians werewolves had joined the fray, obviously the pair were unlike many of the assembled lycanthropes in that they were loyal to their current pack leader and to the Dark Side. Getting to her feet, she scowled as the trio approached her, the air behind her rippling as her cousins, James and Scorpius were hurled back from the circle of stone, after having tried to come to her aid.

She spun, her leg lashing out in a vicious roundhouse as she caught one of the approaching wolves in the hip, knocking him to the ground. Then she shrieked in pain as she felt a fist catch her in the belly, lupine claws scratching against her skin. She tried to move, but someone caught hold of her hair and held her firmly in place until with an almighty crack and a splintering of wood, the werewolf punching her in the stomach dropped. Teddy Lupin had entered the battle, his crutch lying in broken shards around them from the force of his attack. Wincing as pain shot through his back, he leapt on the prone wolf, his fist slamming sickeningly into his head. _Only those who carry the werewolf curse can enter the circle. . . _she remembered slowly, slamming her elbow into the man behind her- Lucian.

She was unsteady on her feet, there were still two wolves for her to deal would and they were approaching her, hands curled into tight fists. Her body had taken a savage beating, she doubted very much if she could fight them both. Nevertheless, she had to try.

Rushing forward, she felt the circle ripple as another fighter joined the melee. She felt, rather than saw somebody rush past her, as the newest fighter collided heavily with Lucian. She paused for a moment in stunned disbelief, she had never seen her father's scarred face twisted into such a feral snarl. Leaping forward, she grabbed one of the splintered shards of wood littering the clearing and shoved it into her opponent's throat. Blood spurted violently across her face as he collapsed to the ground, coughing and spluttering as the life ebbed from his furious eyes. To her left she heard a sharp snap, Teddy rose to his feet, the werewolf below him lying with his head beaten to a bloody pulp, his neck at an unnatural angle.

The turquoise headed man moved faster than she would have believed, and joined her father as they slammed Lucian Grey to the ground. She approached him, a cold smirk on her face as she took in the sight, he was on his knees between the two Order members, each holding the werewolf's arms at a strained position as they forced him to remain where he was, their firm grip leaving no doubt that they would break his arms if he so much as moved a muscle.

Dominique fixed her hands on either side of his head, forcing him to look into her eyes as she smiled at him. With a callous wink she twisted her arms, snapping his neck in an effortless display of her lupine strength, the moon above filling her with power. Turning, she faced the assembled werewolves, her eyes flashing dangerously in the moonlight.

"I will not force you to serve me as he did," she gestured to the corpse of the one-time alpha, "Instead I will give you a choice; Many of you who stand here were forced to fight for Voldemort, and I have little doubt that there are those of you who wish to live your lives in peace. Should you choose to leave this clearing, we will let you go unharmed. Should you wish to stay, know that we go to war against the Dark Lord. Now choose your side."

Roughly ten of the werewolves turned and receded into the tree-lines, shooting furtive glances at the Order as if to make sure they would not be killed for leaving. There was a hasty muttering as three more turned to leave, Dominique did not fail to notice that these three were the only werewolves in the clearing to be branded with the dark mark.

"He-who-must-not-be-named has humiliated and degraded our species for over a decade, I will gladly fight for those who wish to end his reign," said a young man, speaking through a faint Italian accent. "I take you as my Alpha, Dominique Weasley," he said clearly, his wavy brunette hair dancing in the wind as he dropped to his knees before her.

With his pledge, there was a resounding look of acceptance from the other werewolves, as one by one they knelt before her, men and women alike. Like dominos they bowed before her, triggered to do so by the first, binding themselves to her as their new pack leader, as Dominique threw back her head and let loose a long, wolfish howl of victory.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

**Starlight**

When Albus Potter woke the next morning, he couldn't help but grin in contentment as he glanced down at the platinum blonde curls nestled against his chest. He didn't really know when it had been that he had started loving Cassandra Narcissa Malfoy, but he suspected that it may have been the day he first met her. Some may say it's naive, that a five-year old boy can look at a three-year old girl and fall in love, but then again; Victoire had asked Teddy to marry her when she was six, his mother had decided to marry his father when she was ten and Roxy had taken Lorcan on their first "date" – a tea party- when they were both three. It was obvious, he concluded, that the people in his family fell in love at a very early age, even to the point of Lily, who had been enamoured with Scorpius since they were children.

He felt her shift slightly against him, and he pulled her close as she cracked open her eyelids, giving him a soft smile. Growing up, she had always looked at Teddy and James the same way she looked at Scorpius, but somehow she had never seen Albus as a brother. She blushed guessing that that had been a good thing; it probably would be extremely awful to shag someone you had seen as a brother for twelve years.

"Hey," she said, blushing slightly at their mutual nudity, though considering what they had done last night. . .

"Hey," he stretched languidly before suddenly looking at her blush and looking unsure of himself, "You don't regret last night do you?" he asked nervously.

"Albus," she said, imitating the faux serious tone he had used last night, "The only thing that would make me regret last night was if in a few months I feel a kick," her teasing smile growing at her boyfriends horrified look. "Relax Albie, I've been taking a contraceptive potion for weeks," she added when he looked to be on the verge of having a seizure.

"So how was last night for you?" he asked, somewhat shyly as he recovered from his _near-death experience._

"Somebody has performance anxiety," she teased as she slipped out of bed and began picking up her ruined clothing, seeing if she could salvage any of her torn garments. Pulling on her knickers and a sweatpants from last night, she turned back to see that he was being completely serious in his inquiry.

Leaning over him, she kissed him chastely, "It was perfect," before grabbing one of his old t-shirt and pulling it on.

"Where are you going?" he asked sounding a little hurt, thinking that she was going to walk out on him as if it were some one-night stand.

"To my room to shower," she blushed, "I feel kind of . . . sticky."

"There's a bathroom in my room," he said, gesturing at the en-suite, "And I'm sure there's room for two in my shower," he added with a suggestive wink

(*)(*)(*)

"How was the mission Jay-Jay," asked Lily as she walked into the kitchen that morning, slightly perturbed to see her brother up so early, especially considering he had gotten home so late last night.

"It went rather well I'd say, Teddy broke a werewolf's neck," he said, absent-mindedly stirring his coffee before glancing up at her, "And don't call me Jay-Jay."

"Sounds like a rough night, why are you up so early?" she asked as she grabbed a bowl and began drowning her cereal in milk.

"My room is right next to Al's," he said, "He and Cass are. . ." he trailed off and rolled his eyes tiredly, an expression of mild distaste crossing his face at the thought of his brothers activities. He supposed it shouldn't bother him considering Scorpius and Lily but at the very least he was sure that they weren't shagging. But _Cassandra? Innocent_, shy Cassandra? Nothing would have prepared him for that.

"Again, Couldn't they have waited a week to shag? Know I have to live my life knowing I lost a bet to Scor," Lily laughed, "Last night mum had to cast a silencing spell on his room," she explained when he looked at her in confusion over her use of the word _again_. She hadn't been surprised by their relationship, as many of the others had been. She and Cassandra were sisters in all but blood, and the blonde had often confided in her about her feelings for Albus, just as she had confided in Cass about her feelings for Scorpius. In a world that had not been torn by war and grief, it was highly unlikely that the two girls would develop just a strong friendship, their personalities existing as polar opposites to each other. Lily was fire, bold and temperamental, a girl who wore her heart on her sleeve and lived by her emotions, and when roused, her fury would incinerate all who stood against her. In stark contrast stood Cassandra, who personified ice, coldly calm and shy, a girl who kept her emotions tucked closely to her heart. Yet when roused, the youngest Malfoy was every bit as ruthless as her best friend, the only difference being that she was like a glacier, implacable and unrelenting, impossible to avoid or escape. It had been proven when Harry and Ron had brought a prisoner back to Grimmauld Place, a death eater who enjoyed raping and killing young girls, all his victims having been below the age of twelve. They had requested Veritaserum from the then twelve year old, but had been aghast when later that night, the prisoner died in excruciating agony, drowning in his own blood as the membranes of his being dissolved from within, as if exposed to powerful, corrosive acid. Calmly, Cassandra had looked them in the eye, every fibre of her being screaming that she was true Malfoy, and informed them that she had leaked a drop of _Widows Blood_ into the veritaserum.

"I'm worried Lil," he said suddenly, breaking the light hearted atmosphere with his seriousness.

"What about?" she asked curiously, it wasn't like James to be worried, and it certainly wasn't like James to be bringing up his worries over breakfast.

"How the entire Order seems to be looking at me like I'm their leader," he said wearily, "That's supposed to be dads job."

"James," she sighed, "You're a really good leader, and honestly, dad is getting too cautious to take the risks that you're taking. He would never have authorized Greyback's assassination if you hadn't pushed for it, and you were the one who supported Dom at the last meeting, if that mission went as well as you say it did, then maybe it would be better for you to be in charge."

"I know, we have fifteen werewolves who've joined the Order as of last night, but I'm taking a lot of risks. This isn't wizard's chess where you can call a rematch; I'm taking risks with people's lives here."

"James, had there ever been a war where only one side has bled? The Order understands there's going to be casualties, but they're still putting their faith in you," the youngest Potter tried to reassure her brother.

"That we are," said Ginny as she entered the kitchen, and from the troubled look on her face it was evident she had heard the entire conversation, "I hope you know what you're doing son; it's a lot of responsibility for a nineteen year old."

"I know," said the teen in a tired voice, and for the first time Lily noticed the rings under her brother's eyes.

"That being said, you do make a good leader and I agree with Lily to a degree, our generation isn't willing to take the same risks that you are, but that's only because we've seen the effects of this war for too long to consider fighting back. We were like you kids once, but after the Battle of Hogwarts the horcruxes are all we've been focused on, we should have gone after his lieutenants a long time ago," Ginny continued, "I guess it's just that most of us aren't willing to accept that you kids are all grown up now."

"Thanks mum," he looked up from his coffee with a wry smile, "So . . . what's for breakfast?"

Ginny and Lily couldn't help but laugh, it didn't really matter which generation they were from . . . Weasley/Potter men were always hungry.

(*)(*)(*)

Breakfast was in full swing when Cassandra and Albus finally decided to grace the room with their presence, both looking sufficiently pleased with themselves, having spent the last half hour casting various glamour charms to hide any evidence of the previous night. It was only when they sat down did they notice that every eye in the room was on them.

"How did you both sleep?" asked Ginny, a teasing grin on her face.

"I slept like a baby," lied Albus, in a convincing tone while his heart thudded loudly in his chest, hoping that he was misreading the situation.

"Shagging does tend to wear a person out," chuckled James, causing Lily to giggle into her coffee mug and Draco's jaw to drop, aghast as a bit of bacon fell out of his mouth and landed in his lap. Harry smirked at his son knowingly before sharing a wink with his wife.

"Speaking from experience Jay-Jay?" asked Cass falteringly, her face bright red in embarrassment.

James scowled at her before turning his attention back to his breakfast, he did not need to be reminded of his own _innocence_. Scorpius meanwhile kept looking at the red-faced couple as realization dawned, he shot Albus a glare that clearly said "hurt her and I hurt you" before turning back to his food, a wry smirk on his face as Lily shoved a Galleon into his hand.

"Next time, cast a silencing charm on your room," said Ginny as she helped herself to another piece of toast, seemingly unabashed over casually discussing her son's sex-life.

"You're not going to yell at us?" Albus asked, quite stunned that his family was taking this so lightly.

"That would be a bit hypocritical seeing as how when I was your age I was raising Teddy and pregnant with James," shrugged Ginny, "Though I should warn you, I'm too young to be a grandmother." It was only then that he saw Draco Malfoy smirking at him.

"Albus, would you mind pulling a training session with Scorp and I this evening?" asked Draco pleasantly with an evil glint in his eye.

Albus gulped audibly.

(*)(*)(*)

Several people were scattered around the living room of Grimmauld Place the following afternoon, carefully deliberating the coming weekends rescue mission. The Order had come to the conclusion that the best time to rescue Hermione would be whilst Voldemort was still recuperating from the werewolves defection, this was of paramount importance seeing as Hermione was being held in one of the most secure locations in Wizarding Britain, Malfoy Manor, which the Dark Lord had taken as his personal abode. The plan was to send in a small group of highly skilled fighters to infiltrate the manor and rescue her, seeing as a full scale assault on the Manor would be tantamount to a suicide mission.

Dominique and her new beta, Altair le Oscurita, the brunette werewolf who had been the first to offer her his fealty, were seated on a loveseat beside the fireplace. Altair, named for the brightest star in the constellation Aquila, claimed descent from the House of Black, though he refused to speak as to how exactly he was related to the pure-blood family. His Italian surname and accent led many to believe that he was born from a disowned cadet branch of the family, although there were those who speculated that he was lying. These rumours were not spoken of in the young werewolf's presence. There was still a great deal of mistrust and hostility aimed towards the werewolves, though this was generally thickly laced with prejudiced fear. Despite having known each other for little over a day, Dominique and Altair were quickly forming a strong bond, much to the displeasure of Bill Weasley.

Albus Potter was seated beside his brother and girlfriend, and he winced in discomfort every time Draco caught his eye. The older man had not gone easy on him the previous night and had ended the night with a stern warning should he ever break Cassandra's heart. Scorpius had benevolently declined to assist his father, stating that seeing as how Albus had given him his blessing for his relationship with Lily; it would be in poor taste to curse him for doing the exact same thing. It was a testament to the trust shared between the two that Scorpius had stepped down, Cass had been the only real family he had known for close to twelve years and he was fiercely protective of her.

The pale blonde boy in question was sitting beside Lily, their fingers intertwined as they fended off the murderous glares from Ronald Weasley, whom had overcome his self-imposed banishment from Grimmauld Place after committing himself to rescuing _his 'Mione. _Draco and Scorp had gritted his teeth at the red-heads remark, but had surprisingly enough let it go, despite the bad-blood between them; it couldn't be denied that Ron was a ruthless and highly skilled duellist and unlike Harry, carried no remorse over using dark curses against the Dark Side.

"If you're planning to sneak into the manor, you lot will need a distraction," said Altair once Draco had given them the basic outline of the plan.

"The less death eaters at the mansion, the easier it will be," said Harry in a sensible tone, he was one of the small team that would be infiltrating the manor and he was feeling quite apprehensive about the upcoming mission, especially as Scorpius had been adamant about accompanying them. It was not that he doubted his adoptive son's abilities; it was more that it was a highly dangerous mission with a very minimal survival rate.

"We could always sack Hogsmeade," shrugged Dominique nonchalantly, "My werewolves and I can cause enough destruction that the death eaters will assume there are dozens of us." She ignored the appalled looks on Ginny and Angelina's faces, or the shocked glances she was getting from Draco and Harry.

"She has a point," said Altair, holding up his hand to silence George's protests, "With Hogsmeade so close to Hogwarts, The Dark Lord won't hesitate to dispatch his forces to the village should it come under attack."

"There are good people in that village mutt, people like Rosmerta and Aberforth , we can't just sack the place," said Ron in disbelief, he couldn't belief his own niece could suggest something so sinister and deplorable.

"For once I agree with the weasel, attacking Hogsmead is not a suitable distraction," said Draco.

"Maybe we should decide who's going to be infiltrating the Manor before we brainstorm how to distract Voldemort," said James pointedly, taking control of the meeting before it devolved into pointless arguing. He knew that his uncle's fiery temper and the uncontrollable natures of two werewolves were hardly likely to mix well.

"I was thinking a group of five," said Harry, " Draco, Scorp and I are definitely going, that leaves two empty spaces on the team."

"You'll need somebody with intimate knowledge of the patrols and wards surrounding the place," said Altair with knowing look, "I'll be accompanying you if you'll have me."

Harry glanced at Draco, and between the two men passed a look of grim understanding. Altair was very new to the Order, and his trustworthiness had yet to be determined. Should he still be loyal to Voldemort, the repercussions of taking him on their mission would be catastrophic. At the same time, he raised a valid point: Draco had been a prisoner there for twelve years during which he hadn't exactly been informed as to the exact defences of his former home whilst Altair had spent a portion of those twelve years coming and going from the premises, he knew the place better than any of them. Harry's eyes scanned the room, before coming to rest on his eldest son. _The greater the risk, the greater the reward_, his son had once told him, during the meeting where he had authorised the attack on Greyback.

"Very well," said Harry, hoping he would not regret this decision.

"I'll come as well," said Ron, and Harry couldn't help but notice that he had not asked his permission to accompany them on the mission but had rather, just included himself. Thankfully, apart from the murderous look shared by Scorpius and Draco, nobody objected.

"Now for the diversion," said Lily, her eyes narrowing at her Uncle as if she could read his thoughts. In all honesty, there was a distinct possibility that she could, Lily had the rare gift of being a talented legilimens.

"The problem is that there aren't enough of us in the Order to create a significant distraction," said Albus quietly, "even with the werewolves, too many of us have been incarcerated."

James head shot up at his brothers words, his eyes glinting with the madness Ginny had often seen in her brothers, Fred and George.

"That's it," cried the raven haired youth.

"What is?" asked Cassandra, her face mirroring the room's confusion.

"Seamus Finnigan, Cho Chang, Padma Patil, Aunt Luna, Dennis Creevey, Pomona Sprout . . ." James spoke excitedly, and he could see comprehension dawning on his mother and father, on his younger sister and his cousin Fred, "We're going to take Azkaban."

(*)(*)(*)

"You're going to catch a cold Scor," said Lily softly as she stepped onto the back porch, two mugs of steaming hot chocolate in her hands.

"Warming charm," he shrugged as she settled down beside him on the bench overlooking the small garden, gratefully accepting the hot drink she offered him.

"What are you doing out so late?" she asked in a concerned voice.

"Looking at the stars," he said with a shrug, when he was younger he remembered his mother taking him stargazing and pointing out his constellation. It had always helped him feel closer to her over the years, and with recent events, Scorpius had felt a strong urge to come outside and look for the celestial scorpion.

"Your mum used to point out your constellation," she said in an understanding voice, "I remember," she added when he looked at her in confusion. Despite the warming charm, they huddled close together, her hand resting on his thigh.

"Could you show me the stars Scor?" she asked after a short silence spent sipping their hot chocolate, it was one of the things she loved about Scorpius, that their silences were never awkward. That they could just sit around doing and saying nothing for hours and still feel content.

"Sure," he smiled as she laid her head on his shoulder and looked up at the sky, her ruby-red hair rustling softly in the chill breeze. His raised his hand and pointed to a loosely spread cluster of stars and said, "That's my father's, Draco," he traced the outline of a dragon through the night sky with his finger.

"That's Cass' constellation, Cassiopeia, she's one of the few in the Black Family line whose name isn't an actual constellation. Mum adapted her name because she refused to name her daughter after a vain, Greek queen. And there's . . ." he scrunched his nose in concentration as he scanned the night sky, "there's me," he finally said with a bright smile, slowly tracing his constellation through the air.

"No Scor," she said and when he turned to look at her in confusion, she took his hand and placed it on her chest, slowly moving it in a delicate tracery of his namesake.

"Your star is located here," she said, her lips meeting his as she felt the outline of a scorpion embed itself across her beating heart, their lips moving softly against each other as they kissed beneath the stars.

(*)(*)(*)

A/N So this is a rather fluffy chapter, however it is not so much a filler as it actually sets the stage for the following chapters. Please, Please, Please send in your reviews guys, even if they're anonymous, nothing feels better than reading a new review about your story, because even if it's bad, it means that people are reading and enjoying your story.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

**Malfoy Manor**

P.S- Chapter Nine and Chapter Ten occur concurrently, that is too say, the events of both chapters take place at the same time.

(*)(*)(*)

Five spectral shadowy forms ducked under the cover of a large oak tree to avoid being seen by the oncoming patrol, veritable inches away from the boundary line of Malfoy Manor. Instantly, Draco began feeling around the tree's roots for the entrance to the secret passageway he had used as a child, whilst Altair placed a small pebble, carved with an anti-magic rune, onto the tree with the help of a permanent sticking charm. Quickly, he pointed his wand to the stone and activated the rune, feeling the distinct draw on his magical reserves as he fed his energy into the potent symbol. The rune gleamed brilliantly in the darkness, before exploding in a brilliant flash of golden light, the light fading to reveal a smoky outline of the symbol branded across the rough bark of the sturdy oak. The magical defences surrounding the passageway had been deactivated. There was a cry and the sound of people running, pausing only after Ron and Harry hit the oncoming trio with confundus charms.

"I've found it," muttered Draco, shifting aside a pile of leaves and twigs with his wand to reveal a concealed trap door hidden beneath the roots of the oak.

"My turn," said Scorpius, kneeling beside his father and drawing his wand across the meaty part of his thumb like a razor, creating a shallow cut. The property was bound to the Malfoy line by blood, and all doors could be opened by a direct descendant of the ancient bloodline. However, seeing as how Draco had been held captive in the dungeons of the house, it was evident that the spell had been adapted by dark magic to exclude him. Thankfully, they had the next best thing in the form of Scorpius, whose Malfoy blood was potentially still bound to the Manor. Hopefully, he was still keyed into the premises, or else their carefully wrought plan would result in failure. The Malfoys however, had discussed the possibility of the blood not working, and should it fail, Draco and Scorpius were fully prepared to burst in through the front doors, blasting curses tearing the house apart as they sought out Hermione. They were too close to turn back now.

Pressing his hand against the door, he sighed in relief as the lock clicked and the door slid open, revealing a dark tunnel. Quickly he cast a healing charm on his palm as Harry dropped into the tunnel, a soft light glowing at the tip of his wand. Once the five of them had entered the tunnel, Ron shot a disillusionment charm over the open doorway, disguising it from view as they waited for the signal.

Not ten minutes later, a glowing silvery fox darted into the room and spoke in Cassandra's voice, "The attack has begun, good luck," the fox licked Scorpius' hand playfully before dissipating into luminescent smoke. The quintet nodded grimly to each other before crawling through the tiny passageway.

(*)(*)(*)

Harry Potter was crawling forwards on his hands and knees, the passageway having been designed as an emergency egress for the time periods current Malfoy Heir in times of great danger, and not as an infiltration point for five grown men. At its largest point, a house-elf would be able to walk upright . . . at its narrowest, only Scorpius and Altair could fit comfortably on hands and knees, their slender builds enabling them to traverse the passage easily. Draco and Ron were burlier, their muscles more pronounced, despite the blonde mans long imprisonment he had spent the past five weeks in the training room, recovering his strength. Harry had his wand clenched between his teeth when he finally stopped as he reached a dead end before he cautiously tapped it with his wand, three times as Draco had instructed, and the tile vanished, leaving behind a small hole leading into what looked like a child's nursery.

The room was painted in a light sea-foam green, accented with silver, the perfect room for a Slytherin baby. The crib in the corner of the room was a deeply varnished wood, the end engraved with the intricate carving of a Greek Queen, the constellation Cassiopeia spiralling around her, wrought in silver.

"The family crib," said Draco as he crawled out of the room and noticed what Harry was staring at, "It used to have a carving of a Dragon when I was a kid, my mother said it changes to reflect each of its users, I remember there being a scorpion when Hermione was pregnant with Scorpius."

"We can discuss Malfoy history later," spat Ron, the sounds of people apparating filling the room. "The Death Eaters are leaving."

Altair and Draco took point, leading the way through the vast mansion as the searched for the dungeons where Hermione was held captive.

(*)(*)(*)

"Altair and I will cover you three," Harry yelled, jets of red light flashing from his wand as he non-verbally shot stunners at the encroaching Death Eaters, signalling for Ron, Draco and Scorpius to hurry on to the dungeons. "Go and get Hermione," he yelled, hastily erecting a shield charm as several curses flew his way. Normally he would be hesitant to send those three of in a single team, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"There's too many of them," snarled Altair, his wand moving in a blur as he shot curse after curse across the room, his spells slamming into various shields and wards. It was true, whilst it was evident that many of the death eaters had hastened to Azkaban, a fair number had remained to guard the mansion. "Does Malfoy have any attachment to this place?" shot Altair quickly as he ducked below an overturned table, killing curses whizzing through the air above him.

"I doubt it," said Harry, finally succeeding in hitting one of his foes with a body-bind curse.

"Daemonium Ignes," Altair yelled, flames billowing from his wand and filling the corridor with scorching demonic fire. The flames hissed and spat as they consumed the room, devouring priceless Malfoy heirlooms and antiques in seconds as flaming beasts were born from the twisting flames. _Fiendfyre_. The death eaters quailed on the other end of the room, their wands whipping furiously as they held the flames away from them, conjuring water based spells at the encroaching flames.

"Dimitte Ventorum," said Harry, remorse flooding his senses as gale force winds erupted from his wand, sweeping the flames over the six panicking death eaters and incinerating them instantly. His children were right, he was too soft and cautious for this war, it pained him to know how hard this war had made them, that even children as young as Cassandra and Louis were capable of killing without hesitation. He still remembered how stunned he had been, how rocked to his core he had felt when he saw James cast the _Avada Kedavra_, instantly and without hesitation when confronted by death eaters on the day they had went to retrieve Draco. He himself would have stunned or petrified, but it was clear that the younger generation had long since lost their morality. Cassandra would never give using deadly poisons against prisoners of war a second thought, Dominique and Lily had no qualms about interrogating using the cruciatus curse, a trait they shared with Teddy and Fred. Louis, though still fourteen, had done things using runes that made Harry wake up at night in a cold sweat. In a way it made sense, them adapting to having to grow up in a world where it was kill or be killed but at the same time it rankled that his children were growing to be as ruthless and merciless in battle as the Death Eaters they fought against.

"That went well," shrugged Altair, banishing the flames with a wave of his wand, before kneeling to nurse a deep cut across his side from where he had been hit with a severing charm. Trailing his wand over the torn flesh, he gritted his teeth as the wound rapidly stitched itself together and healed into a faint pink scar.

Harry raised an eyebrow at the charred bodies across the scorched room, surprised by how sarcastic the werewolf sounded regarding the incineration of six human beings. Before he could berate the younger man however, the entire manor began to quake and the two hurried of in search of the dungeons, from where the powerful vibrations seemed to emanating.

(*)(*)(*)

Ronald opened his mouth and spoke in a strangled serpentine snarl; his eyes gleaming as the stone door slowly cracked open before his crude version of parseltongue. He entered the room quickly followed by the two Malfoys, all of whom froze at the sight before them.

The crystal pillar pulsed with energy, filling the room with a thick amber mist and crackling with static energy, as if the pillar was animate and had realised that its time was drawing to an end. Wreathed within the celestial prison, Hermione slumbered, her hands clasped over the Soul Container, her dark mark blazing furiously in the ochre glare of the room. Draco and Scorpius stepped forward in awe, despite Draco having seen it before they were both taken aback by the sight before them. A thousand memories came to the forefront of both their minds, the thick, opaque mist of the room seeming to pluck their thoughts from their head and playing it before them, so that their innermost memories were laid bare.

"_Run away with me," Draco said, grabbing her hand as he deflected a killing curse with a slash of his wand. All around them The Battle of Hogwarts raged, the air thick with screams and curses as people fought and fled and died. She looked at him, and took in the losing battle she was fighting, remembering all those around her who had already died, before looking into his eyes and making her decision._

"_Let's go," she said, taking off in a sprint with her hand in his._

_Eighteen months later, the wards around their little Virginian cottage flared and snapped, so quickly Hermione knew that there were only two wizards who could have ever overcome her enchantments so quickly. And one of them was already dead, lying in a white marble tomb on the grounds of her old school. But he was in Britain, not the United States of America. What was he doing here? The answer was chilling, he had come for them. _

_She drew her wand, rising to her feet alongside her husband and going to the door, their wand's outstretched, her free hand resting protectively on her slightly swollen stomach. _

"_Voldemort," she said, her nose twisting in revulsion at the pale serpentine man standing in her front landing. _

"_Aaah, Ms. Granger. . .and Young Master Malfoy," he sneered, "though I do believe a congratulations is in order, he said gesturing to her stomach._

"_She's a Malfoy," said Draco, stepping in front of her protectively, his face paler than usual as he kept his wand trained on the Dark Lord, though his voice carried a strain of pride and affection as he spoke about his wife._

"_Oh? How quaint. .. Mrs. Malfoy then, I have come with an offer, an offer for your blood to be forgiven, and I only ask that you join my order. . ."_

"_I'd die before I joined you Riddle," spat Hermione, having not expected such an offer, needless to say, it was not an idea which she liked, "I'm a mudblood and proud of it."_

"_You'd die, but what of your child? Did you know. . .there is a version of the cruciatus curse that is specially formulated to target unborn children in the womb. . . and what of your husband . . . he would make a fine chew-toy for my werewolves . . . a gift of goodwill to my giants." _

Across the room, Scorpius was shivering at his own memories.

"_Don't touch my son you bitch," snarled Hermione, grabbing a two year old Scorpius and showing him behind her, her wand clutched tightly in her hand._

"_The ickle mudblood wants to play," laughed Bellatrix, her face twisting with glee as she cackled, "Crucio." Hermione screamed as she collapsed to the ground, her body writhing as white hot knives pierced her skin in a dozen places, over and over, fraying every nerve in her body with molten magma and sulphuric acid. _

"_Leave my mummy alone," screamed Scorpius, his little fists clenched as he cried, a letter opener rising from the nearby table and whipping through the air, aimed straight at Bella's throat in a perverse display of accidental magic. The older witch laughed before deflecting the projectile with a wave of her hand, smirking at the toddler._

"_Perhaps we'll make a death eater of you yet. . ." she said, grinning as she aimed her wand at Hermione again._

The images were blurring together as both Malfoy men seemed lost in their own mental prisons, forced to relive memories of the days before she was taken from them. Then Draco's memories were playing through the air, stunning the entire room and causing Scorpius to look at his father in horror. . .

"_**And how exactly did she invoke it Harry?" asked Draco in a patronizing voice, his voice bitter and resigned.**_

"_**She died to . . ." he paused, comprehension filling his face.**_

"_**To free Hermione from the spell, somebody she loves has to die. . ." Draco trailed off in a hollow voice, and Harry's jaw dropped. It was obvious from the look on the other man's face that he didn't intend to survive the upcoming rescue mission.**_

"Stupefy," muttered Ron as he walked forward, and Draco crumpled to the ground, the redhead's wand slashed the air quickly, an immobilising charm striking Scorpius in the back as he spun around to face him.

"What the Hell?" snarled Scorpius, unable to move as the older man approached the glistening surface of his mother's prison.

"If too free her, somebody who loves her has to die, let that person be me," said Ronald Weasley in a determined voice, pressing his left palm to the hot surface, instantly throwing back his head in a tortured scream of pain.

Fine cracks began weaving their way across the prison, forming a spider web of interlacing flaws in its immaculate perfection and suddenly, as the filigree of cracks covered the entire pillar, Hermione opened her eyes.

The walls of the dungeon shook violently, the entire mansion having been caught in the grip of enchantments that were old when the world was still young, and Scorpius felt time itself begin to buckle and twist upon itself within the confines of the stone cavern. Blood pooled upon the ground, Ron's blood, flowing freely from his every orifice, scarlet rivulets trickling from his mouth, his nostrils, and his eyes. His red hair whipped around his face, his life force slipping from his hands and being pumped into the destabilizing crystal, while as Hermione screamed and kicked within.

Scorpius heard his father scream, and his eyes shifted in his face, his body still immobilized, he watched helplessly as Draco clutched at his Dark Mark, his body writhing across the floor as the Mark flared and burned, tiny pieces of black ash drifting from his skin. The rune bracelets shattered, and the house shook once more as two powerful brands of magic, ancient and dark, fought for dominance within its formidable walls. All around him, he could feel rather than see spells being broken, the anti-apparition wards, the locking spells on the dungeon doors, the blood spells that bound the home to the Malfoy family, all shattering and breaking as finally in a roaring crescendo of celestial energy the pillar quavered and broke, as if in slow motion, filling the room with fragments of amber hued crystaland crackling light.

He felt himself being pulled into a deep, heart-wrenching embrace as his mother flew onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck violently and sobbing into his shoulder. "Draco," she cried, "Oh it's good to see you Draco."

"I'm not Draco," said Scorpius pulling away from her, taking in the sight of his mother for the first time in twelve years, tears falling freely from his stormy grey eyes. His mother looked at him in confusion, before her face split in a look of dawning wonder, "Scorpius," she whispered slowly, her hand stroking his face as if to make sure he was real, "How long have I?"

"Twelve years," Scorpius answered, his face beaming at the opportunity to actually feel his mother, "But we need to get out of here," he added urgently, and Hermione nodded quickly, her eyes taking in the situation, her mind whirring as it pieced together her memories prior to being frozen in crystal. Quickly though, she followed her son as they moved across the room, her breath hitching as she took in the sight of her husband, feebly stirring on the ground.

"Can you help him?" Scorpius asked, "I need to go and check on Ron." Hermione nodded and dropped to her knees as her son moved towards the place where the pillar once stood. Draco coughed as his wife helped him up, his eyes watery as she asked him to put her arm around her, too battered too speak he obliged, biting his lip at the pain coursing from his deactivated Mark. Hemione stumbled slightly under his weight, but soon steadied herself as he came too and they turned to look for their son. Harry and Altair burst into the room and froze at the scene.

"Why?" asked Scorpius, on his knees beside the dying man who had filled his life with misery for twelve long years. Ron's skin was blackened and scorched in places, his skin smoking slightly as his blood dried on his numerous cuts and bruises, his eyes red and watery.

"For Hermione . . . she loves . . . your father . . . more . . . than she . . . ever loved me," he said in gasping breaths, blood bubbling from the corner of his mouth. His hand shaking, he drew his wand and pressed in to Scorpius, "Give . . .give her. . . need a . . .wand" Ron's eyes dimmed as his body relaxed, the peace of death creeping over his still face.

Scorpius leaned over and drew his fingers over the man's eyes, closing them before pointing his wand at his chest and murmuring, "Sepultura." He rose slowly as his former bully was drawn into the earth, drawn to Gaea's nurturing bossom. Scorpius stood to face them, holding the man's wand in his hand he said, "Let's go."

(*)(*)(*)

A/N Who saw that twist coming? Leave your views about Ron's death as a review. C'mon guys, this story gets like three hundred hits a day but only 3 reviews a day, that makes me sad. Read and Review! Fun fact, Reviewing my stories increases your life-span by an average of 0.5 percent per review.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

**Azkaban**

**P.S: The events of this chapter run concurrently with that of the previous chapter, that is both occur at the same time, though in different places.**

The night was dark and stormy, thunderclouds and tremulous waves framing the dark fortress that was Azkaban, the very atmosphere permeated by the dark, depressing aura that foretold the presence of dementors. Whipping through the night sky, mounted on broomsticks, seven teams of three sped towards the foreboding triangular tower, their wands held steady; their nerves on end as they prepared to mount the biggest assault Wizarding Britain had seen since the Battle of Hogwarts. The twenty-one comprised of the best flyers in the Order, all of whom now circled along the outskirts of the prisons wards, the heavy condensation soaking their robes and hair as they waited, determination and fear etched upon their faces.

Ginny Weasley sped upon her _Starfyre 3000, _flanked by her sister-in-law Angelina and her niece Roxanne, though the latter was underage, still sixteen; it was undisputed that she was one of the best fliers in the Order. Despite this, several older members had been vehemently against the idea of allowing younger members to join the assault. These protests had, much to her own chagrin, little effect on the overall decision. The situation was dire, if the assault was successful their numbers would swell significantly but at present, they needed every wand they could.

She remembered the shocked looks she had received from her sons when she had announced that she would be joining them in attacking the prison, both of whom had never seen her leave on a mission in their entire lives. But Ginny had been one of the best chasers on her quidditch team, and had been made captain after her husband left during the start of her sixth year. She had not gone to battle for years, choosing to stay home and raise her children but now that they were of age she knew the day had come for her to draw her wand once more. As her mother had once told her, never doubt a mother bear when her cubs were in danger.

Several yards in front of her flew James, flanked by his brother and his uncle George, their wands drawn as they whizzed through the chill air. Her son, who had once been terrified of blood and carnage after seeing Harry return from his missions, was now leading a mass assault against Azkaban. Pride welled in her chest at the thought, but it quickly died down when exposed to her worry and trepidation. Like it or not, save for a few members of her family who were incapable of fighting, everybody whom she loved were in danger tonight. She caught a flash of fiery red hair whipping through the sky in the distance, and her heart constricted; this was Lily's first field assignment. Apart from Cassandra and Teddy, all her cubs had gone to war.

Then suddenly, she saw the silvery lion that was her sons patronus burst through the air, and she answered in kind, her luminescent stallion bursting through the air as all around her, patronus charms were cast and various glowing animals began flitting around each team of three. Turning her broom in mid-air, she whizzed through the air like a bullet, her sister-in-law and niece flanking her on either side. She had to keep her concentration on maintaining her patronus, whilst Angelina and Roxy focused on keeping death eaters and whatever other foul creatures guarded the prison away from her. It was the same for all teams as they flew towards the prison, their aim being to sunder the anti-apparition wards and allow the rest of the Order to enter Azkaban on foot.

A dark cloud began rising from the centre of the prison, and with a dull groan, she recognized the tattered cloaks and skeletal fingers of countless dementors, abandoning their posts and rising up against them. And suddenly, she saw hooded figures flying towards them, death eaters who had been assigned to guard the prison that held over a hundred members of the Order. Streams of green light began tearing across the sky, colliding with jets of red and creating showers of multi-coloured sparks which reminded Ginny of muggle fireworks. Focusing, she sent her patronus cantering into the dark swarm, scattering the dark soul-sucking creatures and sending them flying for safety. A killing curse whizzed by her ear, and then Angelina was in front of her, locked in an aerial duel with a silver-masked female.

"Expecto Patronum," yelled Roxanne, her antelope leaping into the air, she gave Ginny a quick nod as she took her place in maintaining the patronus, whilst the older witch flew forward to engage an approaching death eater, the silvery stallion dissipating into a few tendrils of silvery smoke.

Ginny's eyes travelled for a moment as she saw a death eater plummet from the sky, her daughter already flying past him to meet her next opponent. Streams of green and purple light flashed from Lily's wand and it was evident the younger witch was duelling to kill, her red hair whipping around her heart shaped face, her eyes hardened into chips of flint.

The killing curse flashed through the air, and Ginny flourished her wand in response – but her shield charm was a millisecond too late, and with a shriek and a twisted shattering of wood, Ginevra Molly Potter fell from the sky.

(*)(*)(*)

Her dirty blonde hair, once so smooth and ethereal, now clung to her body in matted, filthy tendrils, framing her grubby skin and pale face, a face that had long since lost its vibrancy. Seven years in Azkaban tend to do that to a person, stripping from them their life and soul, leaving them a shattered shell of what they once were.

She no longer sought out wrackspurts and nargles, her naive belief in the imaginary had long since been dulled by the horrors of the prison, where young death eaters were allowed to practice their skills of torture on their inmates, or to sate their perverse and deplorable desires. . .but nothing, nothing was worse than the emotional torment of the dementors. Nothing was worse than watching her mother die over and over again, of watching her husband being decapitated with a lethal curse, of seeing her father tortured for weeks on end whilst she languished and starved in her cell. But that was the dementors power, a power to flood her mind with her darkest memories so as to cripple and destroy her.

But tonight was different, tonight the dank depression that permeated the air seemed to be lifted, and for the first time in years, she could feel her faint vestiges of her power return to her. Pressing her gaunt face to the tiny window, she felt a smile spread across her face as she saw the sky alight with a dozen patronus charms, she recognized Ginny's stallion amongst them. The Order had come for her at last.

But Luna Scamander (nee Lovegood) was no damsel in distress, with her magical power already returning to her as she turned to her cell door she outstretched her hand and focused, drawing every scant droplet of energy in her body, she whispered hoarsely, "Alohamora," and the locks clinked and the door slid open.

She staggered forward, this small amount of wandless magic already draining her once formidable reserves, she needed a wand, she had never been proficient in non-verbal or wandless magic and without a wand her powers were limited. Luna grinned manically as a squadron of death eaters rushed by her, lunging on the last one to dash past her cell, a man three times her petite size. She recognized him as she sank her teeth into his throat, sinking her long nailed fingers into his eye sockets in a spout of blood and aqueous matter, Gregory Goyle.

He was on his knees, shrieking in pain as she wrestled his wand from his grasp and dispatched him, a simple severing charm across his throat. The Avada Kedavra was by far cleaner, but after all Luna had been forced to endure, she was ready to make her foes suffer. She would make them hurt as she had, make them feel the pain of being ripped from the people they loved. But they were death eaters, and death eaters did not love their fellows . . . so she would take from them the things that they did love, their lives.

"Alohamora Maxima," she said in a loud voice, smirking manically as every cell in her corridor unlocked and one by one, the doors opened and the inmates rushed from their prisons, the thirst for freedom gleaming in their eyes.

(*)(*)(*)

James whipped towards the prison, his hands clutching the golden rune which Louis had provided him with. All he needed to do was attach it to the walls of the prison and Louis would activate it from afar, dropping as many of the wards surrounding the prison as he could. His eyes darted around the air as he flew, watching his sister's team land on the prison rooftops and began duelling the death eaters awaiting them. His stomach curled into a knot when he realized that he couldn't see his mother anywhere, her team having just landed beside Lily. Angelina and Roxanne touched down, his aunt bleeding profusely from a deep cut across the pelvis whilst being supported by her daughter. However, Ginny was nowhere to be seen. It was his mission, if something happened to her. . .

Then he was landing, having finally reached the relative safety of the prison roof and from the sounds coming from the lower levels, it would seem that the inmates were rioting. Worry for his mother's safety prevented him from feeling smug that things were so far going according to plan. Hastily he placed the rune on the ground, binding it with a permanent sticking charm. As soon as the intricate symbol made contact with the dank stone it began burning with golden fire and he could hear Louis' voice upon the air, resonating from the golden glyph, chanting skilfully as around them, wards and enchantments crackled and broke.

"Roxy, get her out of here and get the others," he yelled, gesturing at his wounded aunt as he aimed a blasting curse at the walls of the prison, hoping the inmates would have the sense to take cover as he freed them. The dark skinned girl nodded as she apparated, the anti-apparition wards having gone crashing down with the others. She had not been gone two minutes before she had returned, followed by a loud chorus of cracks as the full strength of the Order arrived in tow.

Quickly, the death eaters manning the roof were overwhelmed and teams of Order members began descending into the bowels of Azkaban. Standing slightly away from them, James couldn't help but notice with a sinking feeling that his mother's flaming ginger hair was nowhere in sight.

"Albus," he said urgently, grabbing his younger brothers arm as he dismounted his broom, "Where's mum?" The flash of panic that lit his brother's eyes sent icy daggers spiralling through his chest.

(*)(*)(*)

Cassandra knelt beside Louis in Grimmauld Place, quickly administering potions to the strawberry-blonde boy as she tried to get him to regain consciousness. He had been fine a minute ago, if a bit worn from shattering the wards of Azkaban but when she had turned her back to hand Victoire the necessary potions needed for treating Angelina, he had buckled to the ground and began seizing.

"His magical energy is depleted," she said hurriedly as she forced an electric-green mixture down his throat, whilst Teddy held him still.

"The wards?" Teddy asked, his face white, he had been among the few who had stayed behind, his still-healing back making him too much of a liability on such a dangerous mission. He had been fully prepared to go, but after examination it had been discovered that his recent scuffle with the werewolves had torn his half-healed tissue in several places.

"He took them down, but he's only just turned fourteen Teddy, he doesn't have the same magical reserves as we do" she blanched as bloody spittle bubbled from his lips, his eyes quickly becoming bloodshot as a slender rivulet of crimson trickled out his ear.

"Some of the blood-vessels in his brain must have burst, he may be too far gone to heal," Cass said softly, tears glittering in her eyes as she forced another dose of mana-replenishing potion down the younger boy's throat.

(*)(*)(*)

"Signum Phoenicis," Lily cried, aiming her wand to the stormy sky and emitting a towering inferno of flames, the roaring fire twisting into the shape of a Phoenix in full flight. The Mark of the Order, which hadn't flown in over a decade, burned bright over Azkaban this night. _Let them see the Phoenix rise anew; let them remember what it is to fear us, _Lily thought as she conjured the mark.

"Very theatrical," yelled Lysander, his wand flaring as he shot stunning spells into the sky, aiming for the death eaters that now circled the prison upon broomsticks of their own, hurling curses of their own upon the Order.

"Shut up," she laughed manically, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she joined him, aiming her spells with lethal precision. A wolfish howl permeated the air, making her skin stand on end as Dominique and her pack leapt into the growing battle downstairs. Then the sky began to darken as inky black clouds began swooping around the prison, the dementors having scattered after the initial assault had regrouped and returned with a vengeance.

"Patronus charms," she heard somebody yell, it sounded like Parvati Patil, but she couldn't be sure over the sinister chuckling that slowly filled the air. Lily's eyes darted frantically, taking in the growing looks of horror dawning on everyone around her and the cheers that rose from the death eaters. _No, not him. Not him. . ._ she prayed in vain, as she saw the dark smoke that signified his manifestation swirl into the prison.

(*)(*)(*)

"Aunt Luna," James yelled as he recognized the witch leading the prison riot, turning she stared at him, her mouth agape as she mouthed, "James?"

"Evacuation point's on the roof," he yelled, sending a powerful blasting curse over her head, slamming a death eater in the gut and tearing his body in two. "GO!"

She nodded quickly, still stunned at how much older her honorary nephew looked as she led the crowd of prisoners up the rambling stairwell. "Lorcan and Lysander?" she asked quickly, turning back as the she herded the inmates before her, shooting complicated hexes over her shoulder whenever a death eater dared round the corner and come within her view.

"They're fighting," James said loudly before catching sight of his brother locked in combat with a brutish looking man and tearing off to assist him. He recognized the death eater from various editions of the Daily Prophet, he was one of Voldemort's most devoted followers, the driving force behind the Ministry's latest reforms, including the recent legalisation of muggle hunting – Yaxley, Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement.

"Incisura," he bellowed, memories of a battle in a darkened muggle street flitting through his mind as the purple arc of energy whipped through the air, cutting like a razor, causing Yaxley's left hand to be severed from his body in a splash of blood and a howl of agony. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Albus hit the man with a non-verbal stunner, leaving him to unconsciously bleed to death. They grinned at each other briefly but then they heard her first giggle, flirtatious and seductive.

"Hello boys," said a simpering voice as a dark haired witch stepped out from behind the corridor. Her hair cascaded in sable waves down to the small of her back, her robes dark and elegant, designed to show off her sensual body. The vision of loveliness was marred, ever so slightly, by her twisted expression of contempt and loathing, giving her the face of a pug. The tattoo of a wilting rose twisted around a slender stiletto blade lay between her collarbones, the tip of the inky blade disappearing down her cleavage. Both boys knew that mark, a symbol worn only by three witches in all the world, the personal handmaidens of Bellatrix Lestrange. The three were deadly, her private assassins, loyal to none but their Mistress and the Dark Lord she served.

Albus and James took up a defensive stance as they faced her, their eyes narrowing menacingly at the skull and serpent branded across her fore-arm, it was a known fact that the three were handpicked from amidst the death eaters, and all had eclipsed many of the lieutenants in sheer darkness alone. Fenrir Greyback had been evil and monstrous, but the witch standing before them radiated dark energy such like neither boy had ever felt before.

She winked at them, before slashing her wand through the air so quickly that had an observer been present, they would instantly assume that both boys would crumple, unconscious, but the swiftness of Albus' shield charm was such that the temptress was thrown of balance. She snapped her wand like a whip, and a fiery serpent flew against James, before being blasted to ash by the older boy. The ash rose and solidified at Al's command, forming a sword of blackened metal, which shot through the air only to be stopped by a wall of broken stones, levitated from where they lay around the room. The stones hurtled through the air, rapidly dissolving to dust as they passed through James' hastily constructed force-field, filling the air with dust and blinding all three participants in the battle.

Then the dust cleared, funnelled away by the witch as her disarming spell hit James in the chest, his wand clattering towards the open doorway behind them. Before either boy could react, Al crashed into the wall, having taken a knockback jinx to the torse. James turned his attention for the briefest of seconds, using a wandless cushioning charm on the wall milliseconds before his brother crashed into it, before his opponent's cruciatus curse caught him in its grip. He crashed to the ground and lay writhing on the floor, his entire body feeling as if it were being flayed alive in a pool of acid, when suddenly the pain stopped and a furious voice echoed through the room . . . a voice James thought he would never hear again.

"Get the fuck away from my sons Parkinson," snarled Ginny Weasley, the air around her crackling with a furious energy.

(*)(*)(*)

Lily stumbled through the ruined prison, blood flowing freely from her shoulder as she searched for her brothers. Most of the inmates had already evacuated to Grimmauld Place to obtain medical attention, whilst hordes of Death Eaters were still apparating to the prison. Two werewolves were dead, thrown from the rooftops of the prison to crash against the jagged rocks below. Despite this, she hadn't been paying much attention the casualties, but she was sure that Ernie Macmillian take a killing curse to the head and was certain that Alicia and Oliver Wood had been caught under a collapsing guard tower. Of her family, she hadn't seen her mother since the initial assault, and whilst many of her extended family had already reached safety, Lily would be damned if she left James and Albus behind.

She nearly lost her footing as she tripped over a body, grabbing a blood spattered wall to steady herself as she looked down, hoping it was not somebody she would recognize. Nausea welled in her chest at the sight, lying in a heap below her was the mangled body of Kingsley Shacklebolt, his eyes glassy and unseeing.

She froze, flattening herself against the wall as she heard the cold, purposeful hissing of a serpent fill the air. She could understand the words, her inherited _parseltongue_ gene automatically translating the hissed words in her mind, _rip . . . tear . . . kill . . . the . . . Potters . . ._

It slithered around the corner and was approaching her, a large python like serpent with hooked fangs and murky emerald scales, its forked tongue darting out as it savoured her scent. _Nagini_, she remembered, the familiar of the Dark Lord, who she had no doubt was already somewhere within the fortress. As the serpent curled and twisted before her, rearing up so that its eyes were level with hers, she realized that she really had no hope of surviving a fight with this beast. Her father had often regaled her with tales of the fearsome _Nagini_, and how even the combined efforts of Scor's mother and himself had been in vain when they were confronted by the snake.

But Nagini was a horcrux, and she was a Potter, when it came time to choose, to fight or to flee, Lily would always stand and fight. Because as Scor always said, she was a Gryffindor through and through.

The snake lunged, curved fangs sinking into her bleeding shoulder, striking the young red-head to the ground with the force of her flow and sending her wand flying from her grasp. Twisting slightly, Lily drew the goblin-made dagger she kept concealed within her boot and shoved it into the snake's side, her face twisting in disgust at the foul smell which spilled from the wound, the black blood, mucus and visceral fluid splashing across the floor. She felt fangs dig into her abdomen and she screamed blue murder, kicking Nagini with all her might and swinging her knife deep into the serpent's neck. The snake jerked backed, the fangs ripping through her flesh as they retracted forcefully, her knife clattering across the stone floor as the snake reared up, pumping foul fluids from its gaping wounds and prepared to deliver the death blow.

"Impedimenta," cried Fred Weasley, named for his father's deceased twin, his curse slamming the snake in her snout and sending her crashing backwards. Lorcan was right behind him, a pale blue stinging hex catching the snake in her stabbed neck, causing Nagini to hiss with animalistic pain. The snake sprang bodily in response, seeming to take flight for a few seconds before clamping its venomous jaws on Lorcan Scamander's neck and whipping its head back bodily, ripping out the blonde boy's throat. Lily watched in horror as her vision blurred, watching Lorcan drop to his knees, dead before he hit the ground. Then an arc of purple light was whipping through the air and two figures came into view. Her body felt light and airy, her strength fading as she saw two dishevelled mops of raven hair hurtling down the corridor, a second _incisura_ curse flying through the air and hitting the powerful serpent, sending her body slamming to the floor and her head spiralling across the room.

But as Nagini died, Lily arched her back and screamed, white-hot pain coursing through her body as she buckled and writhed, suddenly possessed by an alien anger and thirst to avenge the snake. Then the strange desire was gone and the world went black.

(*)(*)(*)

Ginny Weasley arrived on the rooftop of Azkaban just in time for the first raindrop to fall, clenching her teeth as she hobbled on her broken ankle. _Damn Pug-Faced Bitch_, Ginny thought to herself, cursing herself for losing focus during her duel at the sound of Lily's scream. The death eater had seen her pause, and had struck, but the Potter matriarch had been faster, her killing curse catching Pansy on her shoulder, sucking the life from the foul witch.

There were large splinters imbedded in her thigh, torn from her broom from when the killing curse had struck it, missing her body by mere millimetres and sending her hurtling into the stormy sea. She had barely avoided being dashed against the jagged rocks surrounding the prison, but had managed to clamber ashore near the south side and had fought her way back to the Order.

Voldemort was within the prison, she was certain of it, she had seen him arrive in a swirling cloud of black smoke. Pomona Sprout and Rhea Merryweather, both former Hogwarts professors, had remained behind to fend him off, but in their weakened conditions they would be no match for the Dark Lord, crumbling obstacles that he could easily sweep aside.

There were two other Order members left on the roof, her eldest son and her eldest nephew, Fred and James both looking pretty beaten up as they maintained the barrier around them, despite the drained looks on their faces. Albus had just apparated before she reached the roof, sparing her the sight of her broken and bloody daughter, clutched in his arms. Lily's pulse was weak and irregular, Nagini's venom already coursing through her veins and shutting down her organs and muscles.

"Daemonium Ignes," whispered Ginny, unleashing the fiendfyre over the prison to cover their escape, she grabbed the two boys and pulled them away in side-along apparition, whilst the cursed fire devoured all those who had fallen within the walls of Azkaban.

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: So did you guys really think I killed of Ginny? What am I? A Weasley-Murder maching? Noooo, I love most of those gingers. Anyway the kill count is pretty high in this chapter. Put away those pitchforks people, I can't have an angry mob attacking my house. Read and Review as always, and the next few chapters are more light-hearted and fluffy.

Concerning Hermione's Condition: She was not asleep in the crystal per say, she was more to the point trapped in a state of suspended animation. When she was freed, to her it was not a day later than she had first been imprisoned . . . notice that she thought Scor was Draco. But all these questions are answered in one of the upcoming chapters, I'm not sure which one, I think 11 or 12 but I haven't had the chance to proof-read them.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

**A Mother's Love**

"Hey mum," said Scorpius Malfoy as Hermione stepped into the room. He was seated at her bedside, looking tired and drawn, dark rings evident beneath his troubled eyes. He hadn't been sleeping well, not since the night they attacked the Manor. He had envisioned coming home with his mother as a beautiful moment; he had imagined introducing her to Lily, asking her to help him with certain difficult spells that he had yet to master and of reconnecting with her having spent so long apart. He should have known deep down to ever expect anything, considering the crushing disappointment that almost always followed.

His mother was back, safe and sound, but Lily had not returned from her fight with Nagini unscathed. She had returned broken and bloodied to the point of near death, shattered ribs and torn flesh glaring mockingly at him whilst she laid limp in her brothers arms. Even now, after Ginny had healed her wounds, after Cassandra had developed an antidote to the serpent's venom, he could not stop feeling as though he had failed to protect her. She had battled his inner demons for years, held his insecurities at bay when he no longer could. When Scorpius cried, it was Lily who always wiped away his tears . . . when he screamed, she was the one who fought away all of his fears. She was the fire that lit his way, that had made him the man he was today and he loved her. It was a startling realisation; he had always known that he loved her but seeing her inches away from death had forced his deeply hidden secrets to the forefront of his mind. It was then that he realised that life itself meant nothing to him without Lily Luna Potter at his side.

She was asleep now, being forced to consume several sleeping potions daily to ensure her body would heal itself without her own interference. And even though she was now safely on her way to recovery, Scorpius had not left her room since she had been brought back. He showered and shaved in her bathroom, slept in a sleeping bag which he had transfigured from an old sweater of hers (having verbally beaten down her protests at sleeping beside her in her bed, he had been too worried that he may hurt her if he moved during the night) and took his meals on her bedside table. In was his devotion to Lily, which had removed any minor reservations that Ginny had had on the subject of them dating, the knowledge that despite having a bedroom just four doors away from her he still chose to sleep in an uncomfortable muggle camping device just to be by her side.

"I know that look, your dad used to look at me the same way," said Hermione with a smile; she had easily reconnected with her son. Despite having lost twelve years of her life in what she felt as a blink of an eye, she had accepted it with grace after having realised that it had kept the Soul Container from the Dark Lord's grasp. Quickly overlooking the fact that her years spent frozen in a state of suspended animation had left her closer to her son in age than to her husband; she had quickly begun spending her free time with her children. Cassandra had surprisingly enough remained cool and civil towards her, refusing to get closer to her mother for some unidentified reason much to the households bewilderment. Hermione respected this and chose to focus more energy on her son whilst still trying to break down the barriers her daughter had erected between them. Scorpius shared her love for reading as well as her formidable skill at transfiguration and this had proved to be the bridge in their rapidly growing relationship. The real solidifier however, had manifested itself on the day after her rescue, when she had been conversing with Ginny and Scorpius at Lily's bedside.

"_**I'm curious Hermione, when you showed up on our doorstep all those years ago you said that your patronus had changed," Ginny said mildly, her eyes sparking with inquisitiveness, "What did it change too?"**_

_**Hermione let out a soft laugh before grinning at the red-headed woman; obviously time and motherhood had not diminished her best friends love for gossip. She noted that Scorpius seemed intrigued by the conversation, though he remained stoically focused on the sleeping girl in front of him.**_

"_**To be honest, I'm not sure why it changed. I mean, Draco's charm took on the form of an otter after we were married but mine didn't change to reflect his," she smiled conspiringly, "His used to be a ferret." Ginny and Scorpius couldn't help but roar with laughter, Scorpius having heard the unfortunate tale at many family gatherings over the years. He had found it quite amusing until Ron had threatened to turn him into one as well. Though he was grateful for the man's heroic sacrifice in saving his mother, Scorpius couldn't get over the resentment and hatred he held for the man who had made his childhood miserable and left him feeling useless, alone and unwanted.**_

"_**So what did it change into mum?" Scorpius asked as he calmed down, thoughts of Ron rapidly killing his jovial mood.**_

"_**Expecto Patronum," his mother smiled as she flourished her wand, a silvery arctic wolf bursting from the tip and gambolling through the air for several seconds before dissipating into warm mist. Her smile fell at the tears pooling in Ginny's eyes and the gobsmacked expression on her sons face. "What?" she asked worriedly.**_

"_**That's . . ." Ginny trailed off unable to finish the sentence. **_

"_**That's my animagus form," whispered Scorpius softly. **_

(*)(*)(*)

"I made your favourite," said Fleur as she walked into the bedroom, holding a plate of three-cheese lasagne in one hand, a glass of iced pumpkin juice in the other.

"Fuck off!" snarled Louis angrily, turning to glare at his mother. The blonde boy's skin had grown sallow and gaunt, his eyes listless and dull. On his bedside lay his broken wand, snapped in frustration because of his mother's actions.

"I'll just leave it here on your table then," she said softly, her heart breaking at his words. He was her little boy, her only son and he hated her. She remembered holding him in her arms for the first time, feeding him and burping him, reading him bedtime stories and teaching him the ways of magic. It would never be the same again, she had sundered their relationship because she couldn't do the right thing and let him go. As a mother, she could never let go. It was her nature. The choice had been simple at the time and she had chosen easily, believing that when her son awoke he would thank her for saving his life. Instead he had cursed her for taking away what made his life worth living.

"I'm sorry I was too weak to respect your choice Louis," she mumbled, somehow managing to leave the room before finally succumbing to her tears. It was common knowledge to those who delved into runology that if they expended too much of their magical energy in a short amount of time they risked death. Louis had told his parents that the day he first began exploring their use that he hadn't minded the risk. The quest for knowledge had been too desirable and he had grown more powerful than he had ever dreamed possible. He was a fourteen year old who through his runes had the strength to tear down the wards of Azkaban itself. But he had overtaxed himself, and he had completely drained his mana.

It was simple, what would have occurred had Fleur not intervened. Louis would have been cursed with a half-life, a broken-life . . . his mind would have never recovered from the experience, but he would still have his magic. It had been her sons one wish, should anything ever go wrong, to let him be. To let him either recover and live with a shattered mind or to let him die peacefully. But Fleur had been unable to do either.

So she had intervened and done the only thing that he would never be able to forgive. She saved his life and by doing so, she had taken away his magic. But what would any mother have done when forced to choose, to choose between letting her son die and letting him live a life where he hated her? She could live with his hatred, armed with the knowledge that she had sacrificed his love to give him life. But she would never be able to live with herself had she let him die.

So for three days, she had been strong in the face of his anger and his hate. Three days, in which he had ripped bloody holes through her heart, tearing her down as if she were made of glass and paper. But she could live with it.

She had too.

(*)(*)(*)

"James, are you ok?" asked Ginny in a concerned voice, pushing open his door. Her own injuries had been relatively minor and easily healed, but she could not help but notice the guilty looks that her eldest son had been sending her way since they had returned. He had been significantly battered and bruised but for the most part, his injuries were fairly mediocre, a few broken ribs and severe bruising throughout his body. But she knew her son, beneath the fake smile he always had plastered on his face of late hid a scared boy who was forced to grow up too fast, who had to lead an army before he had even turned twenty . . . and the weight of his responsibility was crushing him.

"I'm fine mum," he said, forcing a smile to his face. Ginny couldn't help but notice that the smile failed to reach his eyes.

"You don't need to be strong for me son," she said in a soothing voice, sitting beside him on the bed. Before she knew what was happening he had enveloped her in a bone-crushing hug and had his face buried in her neck, staining her blouse with hot tears. Too say she was stunned was an understatement, James never cried.

"I thought you were dead," he choked, "I led that mission, and I nearly got my mother killed. It was dumb luck that curse hit your broom instead of you. And Lily! She's sixteen, what the hell was I thinking. My baby sister nearly died. Lorcan? He died under my watch, he followed me into that battle. . ."

She just held him, stroking his hair as he cried and let him spill everything that he had been bottling up. When finally he quieted down, she pulled away from him and looked him dead in the eye.

"We're fighting a war James. I'm not going to lie; more people are going to die before this is over. You can't blame yourself if people get hurt. Nobody asked me to join in the assault. Nobody forced Lily or Lorcan or Kingsley or anyone for that matter to join the attack. You proposed the plan and we followed you because we believed in you. Lily isn't dead. I'm not dead. We're in this together, all of us, we take risks and we make sacrifices. We do that because we're fighting for the people we love."

"Thanks mum," he said with a watery smile, before stifling a wide yawn behind his palm and gazing innocently at his mother's pointed gaze.

"Its bedtime mister," she said with a twinkle in her eye, "Get some sleep, the war hasn't been won in over fifteen years, and it's not going to be won tonight." Grumbling under his breath about overzealous mama bears, he slipped under his blankets and turned off his lights with his wand.

"You want me to tuck you in?" Ginny asked with a wry smirk.

"I'm nineteen years old mum," complained James at his mother's attempts to mollycoddle him.

"Is that a yes?"

"Just don't tell Albus."

(*)(*)(*)

"It's a painful thing, for a mother to outlive her son," whispered Molly in a hoarse voice, her throat scraped raw from having cried so much. She was standing in the drawing room of Weasley Manor, he watery eyes locked on a picture of Ron when he had been a sixth year. She was mourning, not for the man he had become, but for the sweet innocent boy he had once been. She had already buried two sons, and she had lost a third.

Fred had died at the Battle of Hogwarts; his neck having been snapped from whiplash caused by a stray blasting curse triggering an explosion. It was one of the most difficult moments of the elderly witch's life, to see her son being carried lifeless into the Great Hall and not knowing whether the rest of her brood were ok, whether they would survive the night. Fred's death had been the catalyst in her decision to fight Bellatrix Lestrange, who had even then been known as the darkest witch of her age. She had almost succeeded . . . almost being the operative word. It was her biggest failure that she had not managed to kill the witch who taken her son. It was common knowledge that the explosion which killed Fred Weasley had been caused by Bellatrix.

Molly would never in a million years wish death on any of her children but she couldn't deny that Percy would be better off dead than where he was now. He had turned his back on the family long ago, opting to side with the ministry during their slander and ridicule campaign against Harry and Dumbledore. And then he had chosen to side with the Dark Lord. It saddened Molly that whilst she was fighting against her own son and grandchildren but over time she had come to accept that it was his decision. Ginny had put it quite succinctly, claiming that in a nest as large as her mother's it was definite that there would be a few bad eggs. Still, the mother in Molly had never stopped loving her misguided, wayward son and not a day went by when she didn't hold out hope that he would see reason and rejoin to the right side.

And now she had lost a third son. One would think that having already lost two, one to a fate that is arguably far worse than the peace of death that she would have grown accustomed to it. If anything, the loss of Ron was worse than the others because he had died on his own terms, having given his life for the woman who had scorned him. There truly was nobody whom she could blame, when Fred had fallen she had directed her anger against his killer and when Percy had defected she had blamed the Ministry and Voldemort. But she couldn't blame anyone for Ron's death, his divine suicide having been his choice. Her anger and bitterness imploded within her, filling her with spite and malice, a dark unflinching beast that screamed for vengeance. Molly had always fought for justice but gazing up at the smiling picture of her late son, she realised that revenge may be so much sweeter.

(*)(*)(*)

Altair collapsed beside her, his nude body slick with sweat as he lay spent, his arm snaking around his lover's shoulders and pulling her close, her chest heaving as she recovered from the savage fury of their lovemaking. Dominique curled him against him, her body aching from his frenzied thrusts as she twirled her fingers over a set of scars that spanned his toned abdomen.

"Where did you get these?" she asked, wondering how he had acquired such seep scars. They were not his lycanthropic markings, those were located along his left leg whilst these were obviously carved into his flesh. Suddenly she flinched in horror at what she saw, from this angle she could make out that there was a word engraved into his skin. _Abomination_, it read.

"A gift from my mother on my seventh birthday," he said dully, the fire that had flared in his eyes dimming as the conversation changed. They were in the master bedroom of the Order's newest safe-house, an abandoned muggle warehouse that had been heavily warded and enchanted two days prior to the assault on Azkaban. It had become the home of the Order's werewolves, a lupine sanctuary as it were and after a day of magical renovations it had been turned into a very gothic-style den for the fourteen surviving werewolves in the pack.

"Your mother did this?" gaped Dominique in horror, "When you were SEVEN?"

"I am her greatest disgrace," he said turning to face her, "I'm a half-blood and she's a very, very staunch supporter of the Dark Lord. My dad was a good man, but he was very fond of pretending to be something he wasn't, he was a muggle-born pretending to be pure you see," It was strange for him, to be so casually discussing his vindictive bitch of a mother with Dominique when he had never spoken of her to anyone before. But with the blonde girl, he felt comfortable and whole, something that he had never felt in his life having been the half-blood son of a pure-blood supremacist and then infected with the werewolf curse at the tender age of six, he had never truly felt like he belonged.

"That isn't an excuse to torture your own son," said Dominique firmly, her voice breaking slightly. The scars were obviously made with dark magic to prevent them healing and everyone knew that dark magic caused more pain than any other form of magic in existence.

But sense was slowly emerging from nonsense in the pack leaders mind as like puzzle-pieces the facts began arranging themselves into an intricate jigsaw. Altair, he was named for a star . . . a Black family tradition. A family that had always been staunch believers in pure blood supremacy and had over the years produced several of Voldemort's darkest followers. It was a known fact that the family had no regard for those who strayed from their prejudices.

But while disowning family members had been a common practice, physical torture had not. Despite the "indiscretions" of their relatives the family was wary of shedding the blood of their kin, especially as the numbers of pure-bloods began to wane. But wasn't there one witch who never hesitated to prune her family tree. Had she not proved it already, by killing her own cousin and niece and then going after her own sisters when they defected to the Order?

"Holy Shit, SHES YOUR MOTHER," Dominique couldn't help but shriek.

"Yes Domino," he said with a wan smile and a weary look in his eyes, the twenty year old werewolf turned away from her to avoid seeing her look of shock, "Bellatrix Lestrange is my mother."

(*)(*)(*)

Lysander raised the bottle of Firewhiskey to his lips, savouring in the delightful burn as the alcohol flowed down his throat. His bedroom was scattered with empty bottles, the acrid smell of smoke clouding the air. He had been smoking and drinking heavily since the assault on Azkaban in an attempt to ease the pain. He had lost his brother that night.

But Lorcan had been more than just his brother and best mate, he had been his twin. The pair had always been together, from the very moment of their conception the two had been bonded by blood and love.

With their father dead and their mother in Azkaban, the boys had had nobody else to rely on except for each other. They functioned as two halves of the same whole, inseparable in good times and in bad. Even when duelling, they fought as one, Lysander acting as defence while Lorcan kept up the offensive. They didn't need legilimency to know each other's movements. They simply knew each other and their actions flowed seamlessly, to the point where even though they were mediocre duellists on their own, together they became as formidable as the Potter brothers.

"I hate them," he slurred to himself, flinging the bottle across the room to shatter against the wall and drawing his mother's attention. She had been standing in his doorway for a good fifteen minutes watching him, not knowing what to do.

"I hate them too," she said, joining him as he uncorked a new bottle of firewhiskey and offered it to her, obviously too drunk to care that she was his mother. She raised an eyebrow at the offered bottle before taking it in her hand and taking a drinking deeply, subtly slipping in a sleeping draught into the drink as she handed it back. Perhaps he did care but was hiding it behind his resentment, Luna knew her sons and she knew how Lysander felt. That he had gained his mother only to lose his brother. Deep down, the witch hoped she would never have to find out who he would choose if he had had the choice.

"I'm going to kill them all," he snarled, his eyelids drooping as the sleeping draught took effect. Luna looked at her son sadly, he was so young, too young to be harbouring such hate. But it also made her proud that her son was strong enough to seek revenge instead of wallowing in self-pity.

"No Ly," she whispered as she drew his blankets over him and settling him in a comfortable position for sleep, "**We **will kill them all."

(*)(*)(*)

**A/N**

**So this was a very mum-centric chapter. I think that when I first wrote it, it was on Mother's Day. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and more importantly. What are your reactions? Review and leave your views and criticisms as they really help. **

**Also yes, Scorpius is definitely a mummy's boy just like Cass is a daddy's girl. **

**Read and Review**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

**Sins of her Father**

"Look what we found," said Fred Weasley as he strode into the living room of Weasley Manor, flanked by Altair and Dominique. The look on his face was grim as he jerked his arm forcefully, yanking a girl in behind him by her hair. Unceremoniously, he flung her onto the rug near the coffee table and didn't so much as blink as she sobbed in pain.

"What is the meaning of this?" yelled Harry, appalled by his nephew's treatment of the girl. He noticed with a start that George seemed unfazed and although Molly and Arthur seemed perturbed by what they had just witnessed, neither seemed ready to discipline the boy. James, who had come with his father today, was watching the scene with a mildly quizzical look on his face, as if he were contemplating what to eat for breakfast.

"We found her snooping around the property border, the wards kept her out but we couldn't risk her coming back with reinforcements," explained Dominique, at least having the grace to look ashamed. Harry however, could tell by simple observation that the blonde werewolf was not in the least bit sorry for their actions. Not for the last time, Harry found himself wondering how his children had grown so callous and uncaring. It didn't completely help matters that Molly had recently adopted a no-holds barred approach to the war. In the past the Weasley matriarch had been a firm advocate for the Order remain moral and honourable in their actions. Since the death of Ron however, she encouraged the use of the unforgivables against the death eaters amongst her grandchildren. Harry understood her recent change in personality though he could not help but worry for his surrogate mothers sanity; her hatred for the dark side had become a madness in her.

"Reinforcements?" asked James as he scrutinized the girl, she could not have been older than Albus. Wavy black hair shot through with streaks of midnight blue, framing her unblemished caramel skin and falling sleekly to her upper back. Her almond eyes gleamed wetly in the firelight, a bright shade of aquamarine that screamed of an innate childlike innocence. She was dressed in dark muggle clothing that was several sizes too big for her, all of which were travel stained, tattered and bloodstained. She did not seem particularly dangerous.

"She's a death eater," scoffed Altair, "I've seen her around the Manor back when I still served Greyback."

"She doesn't have a mark," said Harry while scanning over her bare forearm, he was wary of the girl following Altair's admission and whilst he was still resentful of Fred's treatment of her he now understood the boy's malice. His sister, Roxanne had become a broken shell following Lorcan's death and Fred blamed his little sister's condition on the dark side. Fred shared James protective nature over his siblings and the venomous fury he held against all those associated with causing them harm. He was firmly on his grandmother's side, at the last Order meeting he had requested that they begin conducting hit and run assassinations on known death eaters.

"She isn't yet of age, The Dark Lord doesn't mark his followers young anymore . . . I'm sure you remember what a disaster Draco was when he was marked at sixteen," said Altair, he had proved a valuable asset to the Order as he held an intimate knowledge of the inner workings of the Death Eaters. Following the events at Malfoy Manor, he had earned the their trust and he was now widely accepted by many of the individuals resisting Voldemort, as was Dominique's werewolf pack as a whole. The werewolves had bled and died for them during the Siege of Azkaban and that was not easily forgotten by the Order, they had willingly admitted to having misjudged the lycanthropic species.

"How old are you girl?" James asked pointedly, drawing the rooms focus to him.

"Seventeen in a month sir," she said, her voice thick with fear.

"Don't call me sir," said James, even though he liked the feeling that came with the title, "Your name?"

"Zabini. Syrena Zabini."

"The Betrayer," snarled Molly Weasley, she looked livid, her usually kind face contorted with loathing and rage. The mood in the room shifted greatly, even Harry could no longer bring himself to feel anything but contempt for the girl, every face save for James and Syrena in the room was twisted in revulsion. Whilst his mother had remained neutral in the war, Blaise Zabini had decided to join the Order. For two years he had fought alongside them and gained their trust; that was till the Battle of Hogwarts. Till the faithful day that he betrayed the Order and revealed his true colours, granting the death eaters admission into the grounds through a secret passageway and murdering Minerva Mcgonagall, thus losing them what had been the deciding battle of the war. Amongst the Order, his name was whispered with the same level of loathing usually reserved for the likes of Bellatrix and Voldemort.

"Kill her," continued Molly savagely, "and send her head back to the Betrayer, let him know what it is like to lose a child."

"Torture her first," snarled Dominique, "My wolves will welcome the sport." Harry was surprised to find that he agreed with the women, Minerva had been his mentor and one of his most dependable allies and teachers. She may have been irascible and inflexible but she had always been steadfastly, solidly present. Until Blaise Zabini had buried his knife into the back of her throat, that is.

"No," said James in a firm voice, his eyes daring anyone to contradict him. "We will question her . . . and then we will decide her faith."

"Are you shitting . . ." began Fred before he was cut off with a piercing glare from his cousin.

"If we judged people by the sins of their parents, then where would that leave Altair and Draco? Or Scorpius and Cassandra for that matter?" he said levelly, sounding every bit the leader, "Fetch the Veritaserum."

(*)(*)(*)

Cassandra's smile faded as she walked into the kitchen, her brown eyes falling instantly onto the brunette witch seated at the table, pouring over an ancient looking book. She made to leave but then decided against it. This was her home; she did not have to go in fear of running into her mother.

"Hi Cass," Hermione's voice was low and flecked with what may have been sadness. Cassandra wasn't sure but she decided to brush it off. It wasn't as if her mother really cared about them, all she cared about was ending the war. It wasn't that she resented her mother for leaving her here in Grimmauld Place all those years ago, what rankled was that Hermione had not so much as said goodbye. She had promised that she would be there the next morning when she tucked the pair of to sleep but when morning came, she and Scorpius had woken up to their Aunt Ginny, then a stranger to them, informing them that their mother had had to leave and that she and Uncle Harry would be looking after them for a while.

What kind of woman left her three year old daughter in a house full of strangers without even saying goodbye?

"Hello," she returned the greeting cordially, hoping her mother wouldn't try to continue the conversation.

"How are you?" Hermione asked kindly as she closed the tome she was reading.

"Good," responded Cass levelly as she tapped her teacup with her wand, rapidly bringing the water to a boil as she added a teabag.

"It doesn't look that way," the older woman said in a pensive manner, watching as her daughters knuckles turned white from the forceful grip she had on her spoon.

It was too much for Cassandra. As if the woman knew her well enough to make judgements on how she was doing, as if she had cared. Because that was what Cass was convinced off, that Hermione didn't care about her – the alternative being too painful to contemplate, that she wasn't good enough for her mother to have stuck around.

"What do you care?" asked Cassandra waspishly, taking Hermione aback by the cold sneer in her daughters voice.

"I'm your mother . . ." began Hermione, looking genuinely bewildered at the suggestion that she didn't care for her youngest child.

"Mothers don't abandon their children without saying goodbye," interjected Cassandra, not bothering to take her tea as she stalked from their room, causing her mother's heart to sink. _Is this what this is about? Did Cassandra really believe she had abandoned them?_

Cass was in a foul mood for the rest of the afternoon, for once forgoing her potions laboratory and heading straight to the training room after her confrontation with Hermione. Angrily, the witch proceeded to draw he wand and began taking out her frustrations by casting several rather colourful jinxes and hexes that she had accidently invented over the years. That was how Albus found her later that afternoon, hurling curses at the various training dummies.

"Something on your mind?" he asked, despite instantly knowing that something was wrong. Cassandra rarely ever used the training room except for brief periods when she was extremely upset and needed to work out her anger. Cassandra may not be a fighter by nature and if Albus was too be painfully honest she was a piss poor duellist. But when she was angry she was a force to be reckoned with. Scorpius still had the scars on his right calf from the last time he offered to duel her when she wanted to work out her anger. He had shrugged it off with a faint smile but Teddy, James and Albus had gone in terror of the younger witch for a month.

"That woman drives me insane," snarled Cass, flinging a particularly powerful reductor curse and succeeding in reducing one of the training dummies to a pile of dust on the ground. Albus flinched visibly, the curse had hit a rather delicate part of the male anatomy on the dummy.

"Your mum?" he asked, deciding to risk the storm before she lost control and seriously hurt herself. He walked across the room till he was standing behind her and placing restraining hands on both her wrists, he pulled her close to him and held her shaking form tightly and comfortingly as he waited for her anger to abate.

"Why does she even pretend to care Al?" she asked, angry tears filling her eyes, "She didn't care when she left us here, she didn't care enough to say goodbye."

"Are you sure she's pretending?" asked Albus gently, pulling her down so they were both sitting on the floor, her sinking into his lap.

"What's the alternative?" Cass said in a strained voice as she leaned back into him.

"That saying goodbye was too painful," said Hermione softly from where she was standing in the doorway. The haunted look on her face made it clear that she had been there for a while and had heard most of the conversation. The brunette stood there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of how to proceed as her daughter burrowed deeper into Al's embrace, seeming to shrink away from her mother. Finally the older witch came forward and sat cross legged on the floor in front of the couple.

"Can I explain?" she asked, unable to hide the sadness in her voice. Not trusting herself to speak, Cass nodded slowly without loosening her grip on her boyfriend. She knew that she was behaving in a very bitchy, clingy manner at the moment but she truly couldn't face her mother alone. She couldn't bear to be disappointed again. With Al, she felt safe and comforted and she needed him to stay. The truth was, Cassandra had a lot of difficulty when it came to trusting people and letting them in past her emotional walls, her own insecurities stemming from the feelings of abandonment that had been caused by her mother leaving. Unlike her brother, she had kept her these insecurities close and had not allowed them to overwhelm her but with Hermione's arrival everything had come bubbling to the surface and she was fast becoming a nervous wreck.

"When I brought you two to Grimmauld Place and I wanted to put you to bed, do you know what you said. You told me that you were ok, even though you were exhausted and had just been exposed to things no three year old should ever see. You were being so strong for me because you could see how much I was hurting. We had just lost your Grandma Cissa, a woman who had been a mother figure to me during my time with the death eaters. And I had just lost your father. I tucked you two in and I told you both how much I loved you but I couldn't say goodbye. To say goodbye to my children, not even a day after losing my husband and mother-in-law was too much for me. I was too weak and I couldn't . . . I just couldn't do what needed to be done if I had acknowledged that I would likely never see either of you again," Hermione's voice was barely a whisper now as tears flooded her eyes.

"You cared too much," said Albus in understanding as he comfortingly rubbed his girlfriend's back.

"I always thought you didn't care at all," said Cass quietly, "Dad had said goodbye but you just left us." She took her mother's hand in her own and looked her in the eyes for the first time in twelve years, noting that their eyes truly were exactly the same shade of chocolate brown. Looking at her mother and realising that her regret and pain were truly genuine, Cass felt all her walls come crashing down as she whispered the three most difficult words she had ever had to say.

"I forgive you."

(*)(*)(*)

Victoire groaned softly as she rummaged through her closet, trying in vain to discover a top which would cover her distinct baby bulge. She had recently passed the five month marker and there was no longer any question as to whether or not she was pregnant, not only was she showing but her recent mood swings varied between three very polar extremes, the three being euphoric happiness, deep depression and unbridled fury. Fleur had delicately pointed out that it was her Veela heritage manifesting, though the older witch no longer seemed to have heart in the baby preparations. Her sundered relationship with Louis was deeply affecting her and both Victoire and Dominique had already given their brother a thorough verbal blistering about his callous treatment of their mother. Both girls were unanimous in that Fleur had made the right choice and that Louis was being fairly unreasonable, whilst they were sympathetic to his plight they were also becoming fed up with his pessimistic attitude. As an expecting mother, Victoire had explained to Louis that she would have done the exact same thing if it were her son in danger, a conversation that had had no effect on the petulant young veela.

In Teddy's opinion, life at Shell Cottage was becoming downright unbearable. Between Fleur, who had become prone to bursting into tears at random times of the day; Louis, who spent his time bemoaning the loss of his magic and Victoire, whose ungodly mood swings often had him escaping to Grimmauld Place he often wondered if Bellatrix would be kind enough to hit him with another coma-inducing curse. All in all though, it had been a very stressful week for the young metamorphmagus, especially considering the surprise he had been planning for his cranky, craving, hormonal girlfriend. He had asked her to meet him in the hidden cove near Shell Cottage that the pair had discovered when they were children, neither realising that Bill had a perfect view of their "secret hideaway" from the window in his study.

When Victoire finally arrived the sun was dipping low on the horizon, painting the sky a fiery red and the sea a molten gold. She gasped at the sight before her, the sea spray lightly dusting her magically enlarged clothes as she stared at the pale blue picnic blanket laden with her favourite foods, including several that she had just recently acquired, such as the sour pickles dipped in peanut butter she had begun craving since the end of her first trimester. Sitting with his back towards her and dressed as casually as she had was Teddy, his turquoise locks blowing gently in the salty sea breeze.

"Hi," she said in an awed voice, drawing his attention away from the setting sun.

"Hey," he smiled at her, standing and taking her hand to help her sit down on the soft cotton blanket he had transfigured out of his handkerchief. His eyes were a pale green, the colour he favoured whenever he was feeling nervous or apprehensive. Despite this he had a wide grin on his face as he lay back on his side of the blanket, his arms crossed behind his head.

"What is this?" she blurted out suddenly before clapping her hands over her mouth, cursing herself for sounding so rude. But Teddy's eyes were twinkling as he swept his hand over the cove and grinned, "This Miss. Weasley, is called a romantic picnic."

Rolling her eyes, she returned his grin as they began eating in comfortable silence, the sky having turned a soft twilit purple just before they began to speak. Or rather, Victoire began to speak; Teddy's face and hair were still rather green after being fed a rather disturbing (even by pregnancy standards) sandwich of mustard, lettuce, marshmallow fluff and cucumbers.

"So I've been thinking of names," she began, lying back so that her head lay on his chest in contentment.

"I actually was wondering if we could name him after my dad, or maybe we could just use Remus as his middle name," said Teddy, playfully losing his hand in her sleek blonde hair.

"I was thinking Remy, as in the French variation of Remus," she responded, missing the broad grin that broke across his face as he laid his free hand on her stomach.

"I think he likes it," grinning at the soft kicks he could feel under his palm which were emanating from her womb, "Remy William Lupin."

"Lupin?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, "His mother is a Weasley."

"Speaking frankly Vic, I don't quite fancy your last name," he said in a faux serious tone, "I'd much prefer it being Lupin."

"Teddy are you . . ." asked Victoire as she felt him shift slightly and extricate something from his pocket, which upon close inspection revealed itself to be a small black velvet box.

"Now I know I should be down on one knee and such but seeing as I've already knocked you up and nearly died on you," there was a unique blend of humour and nervousness in his voice now, "I'd say we should do away with tradition." He flicked open the box to reveal a simple silver band with a single multifaceted diamond, along the band was the swirling embossed design of a wolf howling to the full moon. Victoire found her breath catching in her throat at the sight, tears forming in her eyes as she recognized the significance of the ring. It was the ring he usually wore on a chain around his neck, the wedding band of Nymphadora Lupin, his late mother.

"Victoire Gabriella Weasley, will you marry me?" he asked, suddenly nervous that she may reject his proposal. He had been planning this for a month and had already begged advice from his godfather, his godmother, all five of his honorary siblings and a very agitated Bill Weasley. Bill had taken the news of his eldest daughter's pregnancy remarkably well when it had first come to light, but when Teddy had mentioned his intention to propose his future father-in-law had glared and ranted at him as if he had suddenly decided to join the death eaters.

"Wolf-Boy, I was ready to marry you from the time I was five years old."

(*)(*)(*)

Their kiss was heated, tongues battling for dominance as he lay beneath her, allowing her fiery red hair to drape across them and hide their passionately warring lips from any observers that may enter the room. He shivered lightly as her hands slid beneath his shirt, each fingertip trailing tongues of fire across his cool skin causing him to respond in kind, his hands sliding up beneath her blouse across her back. She pulled back suddenly, eager to divest herself of the interfering garment when he caught her hands in his own and looked seriously into her eyes.

"Lily, if you do that I may lose what little self control I have left," Scorpius said as he gazed longingly at her exposed skin, his stormy grey eyes almost black with lust.

"I've wanted you to lose control on me since my sixteenth birthday," she said, smirking slightly as she slowly undid the buttons on his shirt.

"Oh really," he returned her smouldering look as he shrugged out of the shirt, his smirk deepening as she pinned his wrists at his sides.

"Yes, unfortunately somebody was having at existential crisis at that point in time," she teased, kissing softly along his jaw-line.

"You're not allowed to make fun of my previous emotional instabilities," he scolded, before grabbing his wand from the bedside table and nonverbally locking the door and silencing the room before he tried breaking the grip she had on her wrists. She just tightened her grasp, a wicked grin forming across her face.

"No, no Scor," she breathed against his ear, teasingly nipping the lobe, "I'm on top."

Scorpius found his eyes widening at her suggestive statement as he watched her strip of her own top, before their lips crashed together again, his body tensing as she straddled his waist and bucked her hips suggestively. Her name escaped his lips a dozen or more times that night, mingled with her own screams of pleasure.

Later, much later, she smiled against his sweat-slicked chest, her heart beating faster than it had ever before as he pressed a soft kiss to her brow.

"That was . . . why I didn't give in on your birthday, I will never know," he said breathlessly as he slumped beside her, grinning lazily into her ruby locks.

"You can make it up to me during round two," she said as she nuzzled his chest, stifling a low moan as he shifted, his thigh brushing over her sensitive folds.

"Round two?" Scorpius asked with a raised eyebrow, his grin widening as he drew circles along the small of her back.

"Shut up," she gave him a decidedly Slytherin smirk before bringing her lips up to crash against his.

(*)(*)(*)

A/N : Well I'm going to take a bit longer in between updates now because I'm going through some shit and don't have much time to proof-read the upcoming chapters. Anyway hope you enjoyed this chapter, the next chapter we're going to delve back into the adventure of the story and a new mission is going to be decided on. Anyway, this story will have around 30 chapters in total and an epilogue so we're almost halfway there. As always my beloved readers, Review because my life depends on it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Siren**

Breakfast that morning was oddly silent, as it had been for the past week since James had allowed Syrena to move into Grimmauld Place. Despite having been interrogated for hours by James, Harry and George under the influence of Veritaserum there was still a great deal of hostility and animosity directed towards the quiet girl. James alone treated her with warmth, having been convinced by her recent actions that she was trustworthy and had indeed defected to their side. In the past week alone she had provided them with the location of two death eater hideouts and this had led to the successful assassinations of several low ranking followers of the dark lord.

The subdued mood in the kitchen was beginning to grate on Ginny's nerves; she missed the friendly banter between her children and the light hearted conversation between the adults. As it was now, the family came to the kitchen and shovelled their food into their mouths before hurriedly leaving and whatever feeble attempts at conversation were made were often strained. The cause of the problem, in Ginny's eyes, was the presence of the Zabini girl in her home. Right now the girl sported a look of intense concentration, her eyebrows creased as she rubbed her temples. Across the table, she noticed Lily glaring purposefully at the older girl and it was instantly obvious what was going on. Her daughter was a skilled Legilimens and she had seen her invade minds quite often during interrogations.

For her part, Lily was quite surprised by the level of resistance put in place by her opponent. It was evident that Syrena was an exceptionally skilled Occlumens and this did little to allay the red-heads suspicions. She had been present during the latter part of the girl's interrogation when George had been pressing her for information and she had not been impressed by what she saw. Lily had noticed how despite how the raven haired girl answered the questions posed to her, she had often skirted across the actual question by seeming to answer it in a vague manner whilst drawing her interrogators attention in another direction.

Deciding to kick it up a notch she ceased her assault on the girl and smirked at the relieved look on Syrena's face. Suddenly she assaulted, throwing all her strength behind the attack and slamming into the girls mind like a storm of jagged icicles. The defences cracked briefly before her opponent recovered and narrowing her eyes, she strengthened them into a wall of iron. The mental battle for supremacy went on for what felt like hours but actually lasted for less than five minutes. Lily only broke away when she felt the warm trickle of blood flowing from her nose, she was not Louis, she knew what would happen if she overtaxed herself and she was not willing to take the risk. She was gratified by the fact that Syrena's eyes were bloodshot and a few droplets of blood dripped from her flared nostrils. Obviously the other girl wasn't as powerful as she seemed.

"What are you hiding Zabini?" she snarled, drawing the full attention of James, Draco and her mother, all of whom were still at the table.

"How dare you try to invade my mind," spat back the older girl, basking slightly in the outraged look James shot at his little sister.

"WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING HIDING?" shrieked Lily in anger, ignoring the restraining grip that her mother had on her shoulder. She would be damned if this bitch got the opportunity to betray them as her father had, which she was sure would happen unless somebody stopped her. Already it seemed as if she had her brother ensnared in her grasp. This girl was trouble; she could feel it in her gut even though the people around her had grudgingly accepted her defection she found that she could not.

"I am hiding how much I want to shag your brother senseless," she snapped before clapping a hand on her mouth and fleeing the room as the realisation of what she had just admitted sank in. James looked at his sister with a mingled look of anger and gratitude before going after her, his face burning bright red. He knew that she was just worried about his wellbeing and he was grateful for it, but that didn't excuse her from violating Syrena's privacy and not trusting his judgement about her.

"Lily," her mother said in a somewhat accusing voice, "You shouldn't have done that."

"She's hiding something mum and I can bet my life that it isn't her fantasies about James," snapped Lily. She knew her mother had seen her when she first began prying and had said nothing, yet now that it had backfired the older woman wanted to vilify her? Hell to the frigging no.

"The girl has so far proved to be loyal," said Draco slowly as if testing the waters, "but I don't fully trust her either. She fought back to fiercely to be concealing just a torrid fantasy."

"We can't have her in tonight's Order meeting mum," said Lily, grateful for the blonde mans support, "We both know what would happen if tonight's plans leaked into the wrong hands."

Ginny nodded in agreement, she would have to have a talk with her eldest son. If Lily and Draco were convinced about Syrena's duplicity, both being highly accomplished Legilimens, she would be sure to keep a close eye on her.

(*)(*)(*)

"Three sickles on mum and dad," said Cassandra with a light grin on her face as she leaned against Albus. Most of the inhabitants of Grimmauld Place, would the exception of James, Syrena and Ginny where scattered around the training room. Standing in the middle of the room were Draco and Hermione both of whom had their wands pointed at Scorpius and Lily. Harry was watching the scene with a look of mild amusement from his perch on the weights rack; the upcoming training duel would prove to be quite an entertaining spectacle.

"You're on," said Albus as he gave his sister a wink, he had complete faith in her and his best mate. Hermione had spent twelve years frozen in time while Draco had spent those same years being tortured and it was obvious to the young Potter that their skills would not be on par with that of the younger couple. Despite having gone up against Draco himself he was quite confident that Scorpius would prove more than a match for his father.

His cocky smirk fell to be replaced by a look of slack-jawed awe as the duel began, Hermione and Draco seeming to duel in an effortless tandem to each other, vastly outgunning the younger couple. It had been Lily's idea to have a good natured competition between the couples of the two generations, one that she had made when she was confident that she would win. Watching them now though, he began to seriously consider than his money pouch with be considerably lighter by this afternoon.

His sister fought with a fiery determination to prove herself, her wand a blur as she cast spells faster than Cassandra could contemplate them. She moved with a feline grace, dodging incoming hexes as she pressed her teams offensive, her emerald eyes gleaming with an inner fire as Scorpius moved around her casting defensive spells to cover her movements and letting fly his own attacks whenever he had the opportunity.

Yet they had nothing on Draco and Hermione, whose movements seemed deadly and elegant at the same time. They duelled with a grace that would suggest they were dancing, and neither partner seemed to focus on either defence or offense as their core role. Rather their offenses were concentrated and focused as one, while Draco defended Hermione and vice versa. It bespoke a pair who knew each other better than they knew themselves, their ability to judge their partners actions before they were made based solely on their expressions and body language. So it was no surprise to their audience when Lily was hit by a full body-bind curse from Hermione, leaving Scorpius to face his parents alone.

The surprise came seconds later though, when Scorpius saw that Lily had fallen he moved with a speed and precision that he hadn't exhibited up to that point. Minutes later, Draco lay stunned and disarmed whilst mother and son circled each other, challenging smiles on both faces.

With a flick of her wand, Hermione issued a tongue of purple fire from her wand which was blasted to smoke by her son, who twisted on his feet and waved his free hand, wandlessly hurling a jet of water from thin air at his mother. Caught off guard, her shield spell reduced the powerful jet into a cloud of steam before she fired a stunning spell through the air. He smirked at her as the stunning spell shot right through him, dissipating his image into a cloud of blue smoke: a glamour charm. Then there was a low pop as a disillusionment spell was lifted and Hermione fell forwards as an arctic wolf leapt onto her back, pinning her to the ground with the jaws held dangerously close to the back of her neck.

"Pay up," said Albus feeling relieved that his best mate had managed to pull through.

"Not yet," said Cass with a smirk as a flash of red light lit the room and the wolf fell stupefied onto Hermione. Draco smirked as he got to his feet, having recovered from his son's earlier stunner and sent his own non-verbal, wandless stupefy across the room.

"That kids," laughed Harry as he aimed his wand at Lily and lifted the body-bind curse, "Is why you should always maintain a sense of _constant vigilance._"

(*)(*)(*)

Syrena curled up on the cushioned window-seat of the drawing room feeling very confused and worn. Her mission was supposed to have been an easy one, to infiltrate the Order and acquire the locations of their safe-houses. The Dark Lord had been content to let the Order be for the past twelve years seeing as they had been more of a guerrilla resistance movement than an actual fighting force that stood any chance of taking them down. However it was quickly becoming apparent to him that under their newfound leader they were beginning to pose a serious problem for his dark ambitions. Having already gained vast control over Europe he had been planning a full scale invasion into the last major democratic wizarding Ministry on the continent, France. For years now, Gabriella Delacour had proved a major thorn in his side due to her fervent campaigning and leadership and she had been the sole reason his previous plots against the country had been failures. Assassinating her proved to be an equally difficult task as she was always under heavy guard by French aurors, all of whom were steadfastly devoted to defending her and ensuring their countries safety. His war plan's had recently been forced on hold due to the Order's new leader and in an act of supreme cunning, he had sent her to infiltrate and destroy them from within.

Contrary to popular belief, Syrena did not see herself as a bad person. She saw herself as a good daughter who followed her father's instructions and obeyed the Dark Lord to ensure her families survival and to elevate herself. Her reward for completing the mission would have been prestige, power and status . . . three things that she had always wanted. She did not want to be forever remembered as the daughter of _The Betrayer,_ she wanted to be able to carve out a name for herself in the wizarding world. So she had accepted the mission and had taken the recently developed antidote to veritaserum from the death eater's resident Apothecary, Madam Phaelynne, and had sought out the general vicinity of Weasley Manor.

The task had been a simple one and yet here she was contemplating having to return a failure. All because she had met _him. _He had spoken for her when all had wanted to kill her and he had invited her to stay within his own home. During the week she had observed the Order through incredulous eyes, they were nothing like the filthy mudbloods and blood traitors she had been led to believe. Instead she had been able to see the strong sense of family loyalty that existed between the family, the burgeoning hope that existed amongst them all for a better future. It had made her realise that everything she had ever been told was a lie, that everything she had been brought up to believe was in fact a stereotype invoked by a deranged wizard who styled himself a lord. But at the same time, she couldn't just turn her back on her parents, Blaise and Daphne, on her Aunt Astoria who treated her as if she was a second daughter, or Alyssa Nott, who was more a sister than a cousin. And she was afraid of what the Dark Lord would do to her and her family should she fail; terrified of how Bellatrix would torture her if they discovered the reason for her defection from their side. Because that was what she was now considering, a genuine defection to the Order. . .

All because she was falling in love with a half-blood, a Potter, the very man she had been sent to bring down. The tiny crystal vial was secreted within her boot, a parting gift from Phaelynne. Three drops into James' evening pumpkin juice and he would be dead by the next morning, the _Tears of Lys _having stopped his cardiac muscles. Twice already she had been given the opportunity and twice she had let it pass her by, unwilling to end his life. She had been speaking the truth when she told his sister that that was what she was hiding, the longing desire to kiss him and lose herself in his arms. Syrena had just not confessed to also hiding her mission.

And surprisingly enough, it was not just for James that she was considering changing sides. She had grown to like the Malfoy's of her generation, the stormy brooding Scorpius and the cunningly shy Cassandra. Neither truly trusted her but they treated her civilly enough and for that she was grateful. And Lily, whose fiery temperament flared when anything threatened her family; Albus, whose mischievous nature caused her to giggle like a schoolgirl; Teddy Lupin, who was expecting his first child; they were people just like she was and they were fighting for what they believed in. And deep down, below all her doubts Syrena knew that they were fighting for the right thing.

"Tenebris Viator," she flourished her wand before her as a shadowy dolphin, comprised of black smoke appeared before her and gazed at her in disdain. A dark patronus, first created by Pansy Parkinson, conjured by focusing on ones darkest memories. It was the most powerful defence a dark wizard could muster against creatures born of light, beings such as unicorns and phoenixes. Like its purer counterpart it was capable of carrying messages although it left the caster feeling drained and depressed for hours after the spell wore off, however the darkest of casters were strengthened by the dark charm, as they revelled in the darkest of emotions.

"Find my father," she whispered softly, "Message: They do not trust me but they are being swayed. Give the family my love, Sy."

The dolphin inclined its head in understanding before swimming out through the glass window, leaving her to her darkest memories, watching her mother being tortured with the cruciatus curse.

(*)(*)(*)

The Order was not gathered in force for this meeting as it had that night at Weasley Manor when Dominique had outlined her plan to win the werewolves allegiance. The meeting tonight was smaller and more intimate comprising of just a few representatives from each safe house, though it still had a very strong presence of Weasleys. Already several courses of action had been approved off and several members were leaving on assignments the next day.

Dominique and Altair where heading to Northern Russia to liaise with the local giant population there. As werewolves, their presence as envoys may win the Giants trust as both races had long suffered persecution at the hands of wizards. The mutual feeling was that if the Order was endorsed by werewolves then the giants may decide to join them as well in the upcoming battles of the war. Many of the senior members of the Order knew how distinctly outmatched they had been at the Battle of Hogwarts when Voldemort had loosed Golgomath's giants on the castle.

Bill Weasley and Teddy Lupin (who was glad to have sufficiently recovered to be cleared for fieldwork, much to Victoire's chagrin) were leaving as envoys to the goblins. Goblins wielded magic of the variety that wizards could not so much as comprehend, and it was imperative that the Order recruit them to their cause. This mission would likely be the simplest as the Goblins were feeling very antagonistic towards the Dark Lord at present, he had recently taken control of Gringotts and placed it in the care of wizards.

Charlie Weasley had also brought to their attention that Voldemort was seeking to gain the dragons to their side and in an effort to prevent this; Hermione, Draco, Harry and Ginny would be leaving the following afternoon on an expedition to the Himalayas, where it was rumoured the Mother of Dragons had her dens. According to Draconic Lore, dragons possessed a hive-like mentality in addition to their own individual thought processes. If either side could convince the Dragon Mother to assist them or at least remain neutral, it would be a distinct blow to their opposition.

Molly Weasley on the other hand had sued for the authorisation of an assassination mission against Astoria Nott, one of Bellatrix's handmaidens and would be leaving with Luna Scamander and Angelina Weasley to find and kill the dark witch. Astoria was one the most influential death eaters in the Dark Lords ranks, her influence and political connections were all that held Romania and Italy under Voldemort's regime. Should she fall, both countries would rebel.

Now however, all attention in the room was focused on an ornately carved jewellery box set down in the middle of the kitchen table, made from jet black obsidian and interlaced with intricate silver carvings. Across the clasp lay engraved the Black Family crest, though in place of the family motto was a Latin phrase.

_Quod quaeso, nisi de tribus, optime ab uno in generationem_

_I open for only three of my bloodline, born of a single generation_

The jewellery box had been recovered by Fred and his father George on a recent assassination assignment against a pure-blood supremacist witch who was supplying the death eaters with various dark components used in potion making. Upon recovery, Draco recognized it as having belonged to his mother, although he had never seen her open it. The workmanship on the box bespoke a certain antiquity and Hermione was sure she had discovered the secret to opening it.

"It's fairly straightforward really, three people of Black descent from a single generation have to shed their blood on the clasp and it will open. The problem being is that like many pure-blood families, there rarely were more than two descendants in a given generation," she said from her seat near the head of the table.

"But Sirius' generation had five, why wasn't it opened then?" asked Harry quizzically.

"The box radiates dark energy, seeing as it was previously owned by my mother who only followed Voldemort because of my father's idiocy, I doubt she would have shared the knowledge of its existence," said Draco, knowing his mother had only taken the dark mark to protect her family as best she could.

"Sirius and Andromeda weren't on the dark side," added Hermione, "They wouldn't have helped opening it even if they knew about it."

"But the Black line is extinct," interjected Albus, "Both Regulus and Sirius died childless."

"Actually, the line is extinct in the male line. I myself have a distant blood connection to the family from my great grandmother Doreah," said Harry.

"But your generation doesn't have the required three," said Lily, "You and Draco are the only two who have a direct descent."

"Despite being closer in age to you Lily, I technically fall in your father's generation in a family tree," said Altair darkly, any conversation regarding his mother was a sore point as far as he was concerned, "But the box may not recognise that so I doubt I should try."

"But there are three of us in my generation who do have the direct lineage," said Scorpius in understanding, "Teddy, Cass and I are all descended from two of the sisters Black."

"So what are we waiting for exactly?" asked Molly impatiently, "If that box conceals something useful to our cause, we should open it immediately."

Hermione delved into her pockets and extricated three pins which she offered to the three in question. Hesitantly, Cassandra pricked her ring finger and squeezed out a single droplet of blood onto the exquisite container. Heartened by the fact that nothing seemed to have happened to her, Teddy and Scorpius did the same and once the last drop touched the clasp the entire room watched in reverent silence as the with a light click the box opened rather anticlimactically. Nestled within in a bed of plush black velvet lay a single blue pearl, its interior swirling with an oceanic beauty making the gemstone appear to house the sea itself.

"It's been under my nose the entire time," said Draco, his voice offering that he knew its significance even though the entire room seemed slightly mollified that the all the box housed was a pearl.

"Well what is it," snapped Molly.

"I discovered its existence in my sixth year, when I was . . ." he trailed of uncomfortably.

"When you were plotting to murder your headmaster, go on," snipped Molly.

"Yes well that, it's the key to entering Hogwarts undetected by using the Forest Way." Hermione gasped at his words, seeming to comprehend what he was saying. Too Harry, it was beginning to make his head throb. Ancient Magic, Pearls that unlocked Forest Ways and blood spells; things were so much easier back when he was in school first learning about Horcruxes.

"All forests were once part of one forest that covered the entire world," Hermione explained, sounding every bit the Gryffindor know-it-all she had been in school, "even now that they have receded they are still joined together by the Forest Ways. By that logic we can enter Hogwarts undetected through the Forbidden Forest."

"So where does this pearl fit into everything?" asked Ginny curiously.

"The ancient wizard's devised ways to protect the old ways, this pearl is the key to reaching what is known as the Oasis, the place where all forests do meet," said Hermione with reverence.

"If that is the case we should send a task team to investigate and secure the way, we may need to enter Hogwarts sooner rather than later," said James as he mentally planned his battle strategy. Hogwarts was the key and he was certain that the last Horcrux would be secreted within the school. He was determined that as soon as they managed to discern what it was they would need to infiltrate the school.

"A team of two would be fitting, they can travel under the Dark Lords radar without arousing suspicion," added Luna, who had remained silent for the entire meeting except to offer her services in the mission against Astoria.

"We'll go," said a feminine voice and every eye in the room focused on Lily Potter and Scorpius Malfoy.

(*)(*)(*)

_A/N: Well my lovely readers, what are your thoughts. You know I live for them. What do you think of Syrena? Your views on the various missions? Comments on the growing tension between the Order and The Death Eaters? Remember to review, even if you don't log on. Your views are very important._

_Also, this is addressed to one of my reviewers who had left a guest review. You commented that Luna did not come out of Azkaban sane. . .to be honest, you're right, you've probably realised that she's unhinged. Also, when had Luna Lovegood ever been sane? _


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Voice of the Forest**

The forest was tranquil and yet full of life, a light breeze ghosting through the tall pines and gnarled oaks, faint beams of sunlight filtering through the heavy foliage that blotted out the cloudless blue of the summer sky. The Forest of Dean, in which their parents had taken refuge during the hunt for the Horcruxes bustled with activity, the soft song of birds nestled in the treetops filling the air with a whimsical playfulness as a raccoon darted across their path. A few nuts suddenly fell to the ground, narrowly missing her head and when she stared up for the source she saw a frantic squirrel dashing from branch to branch to recover his haul.

If their quest was less urgent then perhaps Lily would be enjoying her visit to the Forest with her blonde lover but in light of the seriousness of their mission she could not bring herself to appreciate the true beauty of the natural world around her. They had arrived by portkey at dawn and had since been searching for the Heart of the Forest. It was now well past midday. She didn't have a clue as to what to expect, nobody truly did although Hermione had spoken to them at length; divesting all of the information she held concerning the Forest Ways to the young couple. Her own mother had been less supportive, going so far as to attempt to magically lock them both in their rooms until her father had managed to calm her down. Ginny claimed that she had seen both Scorpius and Lily come home bloodied and broken too often to let them go off another dangerous assignment, despite both maintaining they had each returned wounded once: Lily from her battle with Nagine and Scorpius from his fight with Greyback. It made little difference to Ginny, who thought that the two of them nearly dying once was one time to many. It was only when her Grandma Molly had pulled Ginny aside and reminded her of all the times she had given her own parents sleepless nights worrying did Ginny relent, albeit with ill grace, warning them that if either died she would kill them herself.

The sun was setting when the pair finally decided to set up camp near a babbling stream, by which time Lily was dead on her feet. Despite them being very fit due to her daily training sessions, she was not accustomed to hiking through the wilderness and it clearly showed in her worn appearance. Scorpius hadn't been faring much better, his shirt was soaked with sweat and his breathing was slightly laboured. Both of their stomachs were grumbling loudly, their determination to quickly locate the Heart Tree had led them to skipping lunch.

"Accio fish," said Lily hopefully pointing her wand at the stream, there was a dull splash and a few fish bones came rocketing up towards her and striking her in the forehead, charms had always been her weak point. Scorpius snorted to himself, chuckling lightly as he came up beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist, smirking as he transfigured the bones into a gasping, spluttering trout for their dinner. His smirk died when he felt somebody shove at him and he fell into the stream with a loud cry and an accompanying splash. Recovering and righting himself, he surfaced and looked at her accusingly, the water coming up to just above his waist. "Show off," muttered Lily as she walked away, their dinner in her hands.

When he got back to their campsite she already had a smokeless fire going near their tent, the air around them shimmering with the basic protective enchantments. Against death eaters they would prove of little worth, yet both were confident that the forest was clear of anything which may wish them harm. The smell of cooking fish went straight to his nostril as he hungrily noticed the three fish spitted over the flames, thankfully she had been sufficiently adept to cast a duplicating charm over their paltry dinner.

"What I wouldn't give for one of Aunt Ginny's pot roasts," he said as he stripped of his wet clothes and pulled on a fresh set from his knapsack. It like many of the travel bags used by the order was enchanted with an Undetectable Expansion charm.

"Complaining about my cooking already," she teased with a raised eyebrow, prodding the flames with her wand when they appeared to be going out.

"We both know that you're hopeless in a kitchen," he shot back, returning her grin as he sat beside her and plucked one of the fish from the fire and inspected it, mercifully it had been scaled and deboned before roasted. He shuddered remembering the time she had given the entire family food poisoning, having forgotten to devein the prawns before braising them. Ginny, Albus and Cassandra had from that day onwards banned her from so much as touching the stove.

"Would you fancy another swim?" she asked, stung.

"Only if you join me," he grinned as he took a bite, internally bemoaning the lack of seasoning.

Lily could only roll her eyes at him, gone was the insecure, somewhat neurotic boy he had been. In his place was a confident young man who filled her with tiny butterflies whenever she saw him. To be sure, he still had his dark days when he would isolate himself in his room and brood but she was always there when he slipped into his former depression to coax him back to life. The return of his parents and the solidarity shown by the Potter family in choosing him over Ron had finally broken his once lonely, self-depreciating demeanour and had caused his repressed characteristics to the surface. He was confident and loyal, brave and daring, witty and mischievous. He was everything Lily had always seen him to be, he was the man she loved.

"You're staring," he said, breaking her concentration as she snapped back to reality. He looked slightly uncomfortable under her emerald gaze, shifting slightly as he took another bite of the trout. Her own fish remained untouched, save for a few bites that she had nibbled away whilst lost in her musings.

"I'm gazing," she responded, mollified that he had caught her, her cheeks tinged pink in a paint blush, "It's romantic."

"It's creepy is what it is," he said, teasing laughter in his eyes, droplets of water still dripping from his wet hair.

"Git," she said in a faux cross voice, her own eyes glimmering with mirth, her lips edging upwards in the faintest of smiles despite herself. She kicked herself mentally, she was one of the best Legilimens in the Order and yet she couldn't so much as maintain a poker face in his presence.

"Your Git," he said with a grin as he leaned in for a kiss, before pulling away and wrinkling his nose, "Your breath tastes like fish."

(*)(*)(*)

Fighting the urge to be sick, Altair grabbed Dominique to steady the trembling girl as they arrived in the snow covered mountains of Nothern Russia. His gut twisted painfully as he fought his own dizziness, international apparition was a very wearying process but the wards placed on this region prevented most other forms of transport. They could have flown, yet broomsticks and thestrals would have been slow going and they would have only reached their destination after a fortnight of travelling. The werewolf felt a dull pain in his fingers, glancing down he realised that he had left three of his fingernails back at Grimmauld Place. It could have been worse he reasoned, he had once seen a man leave most of his skeleton behind.

Eyes flitting over the snow covered mountains, he realised that in their weakened conditions it would be tantamount to suicide should they begin the trek to the nearby valley which the giants called home. Nevertheless, they couldn't remain here in the open as they had been briefed that Voldemort would be sending his own envoys to win the allegiance of the last free Giant population in Europe. If their intelligence was anything to go by, Walden Macnair would be leading the expedition and he knew from experience that the man loved nothing more than torturing non-humans. Then again, it could have been worse; The Dark Lord could have sent his mother.

Tapping his wand to his fingertips to stop the bleeding, he looped his hand around his blonde lover and they began the long trek upwards into the mountainous wilderness, his lupine ears cocked for the slightest sound that could be considered out of the ordinary. He spied a cave halfway up the nearest mountain and quickly began making for it, by the look of the sky he could see that there was a storm coming and he sincerely didn't want to be exposed when it came. Unlike the other task teams, they had travelled light on travelling gear as they had been forced to carry with them several magical gifts for the giant chieftain of the area. Despite having an undetectable expansion charm placed on his backpack, several of the gifts made carrying flammable objects such as a tent highly difficult.

Dominique felt exhausted as she leaned against her beta; the apparition had drained her more than she cared to admit. She leaned heavily against Altair as they made their way to the cave he had pointed out; he was more carrying her than she was walking. Her blonde hair whipped around her head as the wind began to pick up and not for the first time she considered cutting it short. Her mother would be horrified but it was getting very exasperating having to constantly shift it out of her face, she really didn't understand how Victoire could manage it.

When finally they reached the cave, which was more of a crevice between two sheets of rock, they were relieved to see that it was unoccupied, neither of them having the energy to vacate a previous tenant. Collapsing against the rough stone walls, Altair quickly conjured a fire at the cave entrance and glamoured it to remain unseen by any people in the vicinity. Grateful for the heat, she huddled close to the flickering flames and retrieved a few snack bars for their dinner from her satchel. Unlike Altair, hers did not carry any charms and so the space was extremely limited.

She barely noticed her boyfriend putting up the protective charms around the entrance as she sank into a deep, dreamless sleep.

(*)(*)(*)

Scorpius was the first to wake up the next morning, his eyes blinking blurrily in the glare of the rising sun. They had left the entrance flap of their tent open last night to watch the stars as they dozed off and had unfortunately forgotten that entrance was facing the east. He shifted slightly, unwilling to wake the girl who was huddled close to him on the uncomfortable ground whilst he groaned at the stiffness of his back and the emptiness of his stomach, last night's dinner hadn't been very filling. He felt Lily move against him sleepily as her eyes flickered open.

"Morning," she murmured as she extricated herself from him, already getting up and dressing for the long hike he was sure they would have to undergo today. He rolled his eyes at her, she was so bleary eyed that she didn't so much as notice that she was pulling on his jeans by accident.

"There are easier ways to get into my pants Lilz," he smirked as he got up and began getting dressed, delving into his knapsack for a fresh t-shirt. Realising what she was doing, she stuck out her tongue and waved her wand through the air to shrink the denim so that it could fit her figure, ignoring his look of outrage; she was well aware that they were his favourite pair.

Hastily, they packed their campsite into his trusty knapsack all the while munching on some blueberries Lily had found growing on a nearby bush. Hungry and tired, they continued their trek deeper into the forest. Lily noted would approval that the trees were becoming more intertwined and foreboding and that less sunlight was streaming through the leaves, Hermione had said that the Heart Tree would be located at the wildest and most untameable part of the forest.

The attack came suddenly and without warning, a gnarled tree branch swinging through the air with an almighty creak and catching Scorpius in the torso, sending him careening backwards. Lily ducked at the last moment, feeling the rush of wind whip her hair as the branch swung over her head. She rolled to the side quickly as another bough swung, slamming into the place she had just been and leaving a small crater in its wake. She drew her wand and hurled an _incendio_ as the assaulting trees; her relief at seeing them take flame short lived as she felt a dull thump in the small of her back sending her sprawling onto her hand and knees.

Vines whipped through the air, tightening around her throat as she kicked and struggled, black spots rapidly filling her vision until with a flash of purple light she was released. She grabbed at her sore throat, coughing vehemently as Scorpius kept the trees away with a lethal combination of fire and darkness. There was a shudder from beneath them and suddenly the ground erupted, knocking them both to opposite ends of the path as long tendril like roots ripped themselves from the ground.

"The Pearl Scorpius," screamed Lily in desperation as she felt several twigs break her flesh as a branch slammed her shoulder, "Show them the bloody Pearl."

Coughing blood, the blonde boy delved into his knapsack and yanked out the jewellery box and snapped it open, his fingers closing around the pearl and he held it up before him as he dragged himself across the ground towards Lily. The gem seemed to glow with an eerie green light as the forest around them filled with rippling lights, the air filling with the colours of the deep oceans. At once the trees became still, their roots sliding back into the ground like massive pythons as both Lily and Scorpius lost consciousness.

(*)(*)(*)

She bit her lip nervously as his arms pressed against the wall on either side of her, caging her in and stopping her from running off. She had been avoiding him as best she could for two days, ever since she had been forced to blurt out the effect he had on her. It wasn't her fault that his sister was such a talented Legilimens, she didn't deserve this, having to have her emotions played with by the man she had been sent to kill.

"James, let me go," she said, her hands balled into fists as she repeatedly hit him on the chest, trying her best to get away from him. She needed to send a message to her father; she had just managed to obtain the identities of two Order members who weren't in hiding but were living and working right under the Dark Lords nose. That was where her loyalties should lie, not here with James and his perfectly snoggable lips. _Get a grip Syrena_, she scolded herself, _he's just a pretty face, you don't love him, you can't love him._

"No," he said simply, grabbing her wrists and holding her hands to her sides, stepping in closer so that his lips were inches away from hers, "You can't just admit to fancying me and then start ignoring me for the rest of your life."

"I don't fancy you," she said convincingly, not meeting his eyes.

"Look me in the eye and tell me that Syrena," he whispered gently, his words ghosting against her skin like a lovers caress. Trying to compose herself, the raven hair witch looked into his eyes and said in as firm a voice as she could muster, "I don't fancy you James Potter."

"I don't believe you," he said, pressing his lips against hers.

His kiss destroyed everything that she knew, her sense of morality and familial loyalty, the lies she told herself every morning since the day they first met, the doubts and worries concerning the side she took in the war. The moment their lips met all else seemed to have lost meaning and the only thought that filled her head was James. His scent, his strength, the taste of his tongue and the caress of his hand along her back, it filled her mind and broke every shield she held in place, baring her mind for all to see.

Their lips danced against each other, his tongue sliding in and exploring every available inch of her while she buried her hands in his dishevelled black hair. Tenderly he pulled away and looked her in the eye.

"I was serious you know," she said softly, fighting the urge to make a run for it, "That I don't just fancy you." Gazing up she flinched at the crestfallen look on his face and pressed her hand against his mouth before he could say anything.

"I don't just fancy you James, I'm falling in love with you," she said, admitting her biggest secret as his face broke into a bright smile. Syrena spent the next hour with him in the training room, talking and laughing despite her misgivings. Only later, when finally she had the opportunity to escape did she take it and flee, letting the tears fall freely as she sought solace in the drawing room.

_That's the problem, isn't it? You're my downfall James Sirius Potter, because falling in love with you is going to cost me my life. _

(*)(*)(*)

He woke up on a bed of moss and heather, the soft shrubbery seeming more comfortable than any bed he had ever slept on. He remembered coming under attack by those psychopathic trees, feeling the sharp cracks of his bones breaking and his skin tearing under their pummelling assault. He remembered seeing Lily flying through the air, droplets of blood splattering the trees behind her.

LILY!

He leapt to his feet, ignoring the aching protests of his body as he rose, seemingly healed from his earlier altercation with the forces of nature. His eyes whipped around the clearing, taking in the still serenity of the place, a circular meadow surrounding a massive twisting oak, its foliage and thick boughs spiralling upwards and across the night sky. Across the clearing he saw her, her vibrant red hair lying in stark contrast to the green grass and tiny white flowers. He raced towards her, not bothering that he was unarmed and wandless in a strange and unfamiliar locale. All that mattered was that he reach her and ascertain that she was alive and well.

Her face was peaceful; her cuts were healed as were her broken bones. He shook her lightly, smiling wanly as she stirred while mentally thanking Merlin that she was in one peace.

"Scorpius," she said softly, delicately rising to a sitting position and hugging him tightly, "You're ok," she breathed into his ear.

"Greetings, Children of Man," the voice came from everywhere and yet nowhere, permeating the still night and resonating from every tree and blade of grass, sounding ancient and young, powerful and dark, fair and dangerous all at once. Instantly, Scorpius was gone and in his place prowled an arctic wolf, its hackles raised as it stood guard over Lily. For her part, she had her hand clenched around the hilt of her dagger; it had been taken along with their wands and other weapons but was enchanted to always return to its concealed sheath.

"Peace young magi," the voice intoned, "You hold the Pearl, and we of the forest mean you no harm."

"Other than clobbering us to death by trees you mean," scoffed Lily as Scorpius let out a threatening growl, exposing his long jagged canines.

"The treants are . . . overzealous in their quest to defend me," and finally they realised from where the voice was originating, the great oak itself or rather, from the ancient white owl that perched in its higher branches.

"You are the Heart of this Forest?" asked Lily incredulously as the owl swooped down and settled on the lowest branches. With the deafening sound of protesting wood, the tree twisted slowly till the owls perch was a metre away from Lily's face.

"I am a Spirit of Nature yes, the keeper of the Forest of Dean and you young Magi, seek the Forest Way."

"Yes we do," said Scorpius as he morphed back to his human form.

"Then let me warn you, no child of man has survived the trials leading to the Oasis in over two thousand years, the last witch to navigate the catacombs and live was Helga Hufflepuff herself and she very nearly perished," the owl's voice was sad, pensive.

The couple exchanged glances before nodding in resolution, "We will take that risk."

"If that be your choice, so mote it be. Be warned, your wands will have no power within the catacombs. Your only weapons will be your wit and physical strength, your magic will be limited and taxing. Should you still accept, enter ye the Cullis Gate."

The oak creaked and shivered as the trunk seemed to divide into two, forming an ovular hole through which escaped a musty spell of age and decay. Shivering lightly at the deep foreboding that filled the clearing, the couple picked up their belongings from where they had appeared and hand in hand, stepped forward into the darkness.

(*)(*)(*)

_A/N : Well Readers, the focal point of this chapter was the beginning of Scor and Lily's mission. Next chapter should be up by tomorrow night at the earliest and it's going to answer the questions you readers have about Luna and Molly, not to mention raise a few more. So guys, what do you think of Syrena's motives. I have two possible endings already written for her and I need your responses to whether she should choose darkness or light. Any concerns about what dangers lie ahead for our favourite next gen couple in the catacombs? Review and leave your responses, you know how helpful they are. _


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Blood of my Family**

When compared to the elegant, sprawling Manors that were owned by several notable pure-blood families, Nott Manor was quite small and homely. It was large in its own right, but the Nott family fortune had long since been decimated by the family's ancestors, who were proud and vain to the point where they spent more than they earned. The family was notable in that it lacked the business acumen of several other notable blood-lines, a skill that had seen their socialite rivals triple and then quadruple their own fortunes whilst slowly but surely, they became impoverished and embittered. The only reason they still held onto their Manor was Astoria Nott (nee Greengrass) who had married Theodore Nott in an arranged pure-blood matrimony and whose keen political ventures combined with her high standing in the Dark Hierarchy were able to maintain the families trembling bank balances.

The wards surrounding the house were sparse yet powerful and the Order could no longer rely on Louis' runes to disarm them. Thankfully for the three witches approaching the Manor, Luna was a considerably skilled curse breaker having trained under Bill Weasley following the Battle of Hogwarts. Before her incarceration she had been one the Order's best, her most significant achievement being that she was able to tear down the Wards of the Lestrange estate and lead a team onwards to assassinate Rabastan Lestrange.

"Expecto Patronum," muttered Molly as the younger witch began waving her wand through the air in complicated flourishes, softly murmuring incantations as she began breaking through the defensive enchantments ringing the property. A great silvery she-bear burst from her wand and rambled off into the night, heading for Weasley Manor. She had promised to send word to George and Arthur when they arrived at the Manor and a Patronus was the simplest way in which to accomplish that. Beside her, Angelina scanned the house warily as she cast the _Homo Revelias_ spell on the manor. Their sources had informed them that there would be just two, Astoria and her daughter Alyssa, but in Angelina's opinion it never hurt to be certain before going in. She for one intended to return home to her children. It was not that Molly didn't care for her family these days but it was increasingly evident that her mother-in-law was becoming blinded by her thirst for revenge. Her heart dropped at the shimmering number that flowed out of her wand, a spectral 4 floated before the three of them. They were outnumbered.

Molly Weasley scoffed at the number, to her this just indicated that there would be an extra two death eaters to kill. She hadn't gone to war since the Battle of Hogwarts, even when the Order had called all for every available wand to assault Azkaban; the elderly witch had remained behind and tended to the wounded. But the madness within her had caused her to step forward from her retirement, the twisting desire for vengeance flooding her and overwhelming her better senses. In her black and white mind, she was doing what needed to be done to save her remaining children and grandchildren.

"The wards are down," said Luna, twenty minutes later. She looked mildly flushed, a fine sweat breaking across her brow from the effort as she turned towards Molly to hear the battle plan.

"There manor had three entrances," began the Weasley matriarch, "Luna, take the back. Angelina, go in through the side. I'll take the front. We duel to kill." The three nodded in unison and exchanged grim looks before parting, their wands held aloft as they stalked across the dark lawns of the property.

(*)(*)(*)

"Tenebris Viator," she murmured as the black smoke pouring from her wand solidified into her dolphin. Its malicious gaze was on her as she sent it off into the night sky to find her father, the haughty look in its red eyes suggesting that it alone knew of the internal struggle that was tearing her apart. She had been walking past Albus' room when she heard them speaking, discussing the Order strike force that was rallying to attack Nott Manor. Her conflicted loyalties had been laid to rest for the moment; she needed to send a warning to Alyssa and Aunt Astoria. It did not matter to her that they were fighting for a cause she had begun to question, they were her family and she would do whatever it took to save them.

She tried to compose herself before planning on leaving the sanctuary of the drawing room, using her occlumency to hide the turbulent emotions that were at war within her. Ordinarily she would be completely certain that her Aunt Astoria could take care of her family, she was after all a handmaiden to Bellatrix Lestrange, the darkest witch of her age. Her aunt had studied the dark arts from the eldest of the Black sisters for years and had emerged with a darkness capable of sending Morgana running for the hills.

But there was Molly Weasley to consider, from what Syrena had seen the woman utterly and completely loathed anything to do with the Dark Lord. She was also pretty sure that the older woman was unhinged after the apparent suicide of her youngest son and she, like every other child who was raised on the dark side, had heard the rumours whilst growing up. That Molly was the only witch that Bellatrix had ever feared. Even after the Order had been grudgingly convinced that she had indeed defected, she never dared approach the Weasley Matriarch without being completely shrouded in defensive wards. The look in her cold blue eyes left Syrena in no doubt that Molly would kill her painfully the minute the opportunity presented itself.

It was a dangerous game she was playing having a foot in each camp, torn between the sides of light and darkness. On one side stood her parents and family, along with the opportunity to rise high in the world should she just gather her courage and kill the Order's leader. On the other side stood James surrounded by people who wished her a cold, torturous death. She was balancing on a tightrope on which one false step would send her plummeting to her death. Strangely enough she was leaning closer to the side that wanted her dead than the side which represented her familial loyalty.

"I take it you like the drawing room," said a voice from the doorway. Turning, inwardly thanking herself that the patronus was long gone, she turned to face the blond haired girl walking up to her.

"Nobody ever comes in here. It's sought of my sanctuary in a house full of people who hate me because my name Malfoy," she responded coolly, turning back to look out the window. The stars were beginning to rise.

"I saw you with James today Zabini," Cass said, her voice icy cold, refusing to let the older girl get a rise out of her.

"Did you now?"

"Did you mean it when you said you were falling for him?" the younger girl asked, her brown eyes darkening slightly.

"So what if I did?" Syrena asked, fighting the urge to collapse in tears and pour her heart out to the girl she had only known for a week. Merlin, when had she become so weak and emotional?

"You should understand Syrena that James is my brother. Perhaps not by blood, but he is my brother all the same. I love him the same way I love Teddy, the same way I love Scorpius. So let me warn you now about what will happen if you do anything to break his heart. If ever you do anything to betray him, let me assure you that you will be answering to me. Trust me when I say that Lily and Aunt Ginny will have to wait in line when it comes to people who hurt my family," she said icily before stalking off, her platinum ringlets flashing like silver fire in the streaming moonlight.

In that moment Syren realised that Cassandra was perhaps the deadliest of them all, more dangerous than Molly or Lily, more intelligent and calculating than Hermione or Draco and more powerful than anyone gave her credit for. The youngest Malfoy would go to any lengths to protect her family, she could see if Cass ever decided to kill her than there would be no chance of her own survival. She was relentless in that she would not just kill the person, she would begin by tearing down everything that gave her victims life meaning until she was on her knees begging for a clean death. She was a quiet, shy and loving but in her heart of hearts Cassandra was a Malfoy through and through. In another life, Syrena thought that she would have found true friendship with the young girl.

(*)(*)(*)

With a sharp flick of her wand, Luna unlocked the back door and stepped into a long passageway, hardwood floors and emerald walls looming forebodingly before her, proclaiming the Slytherin nature of the home. Several portraits hung along the wall but from what she could see their occupants were asleep, causing her to sigh in relief that they wouldn't alert the houses occupants to her presence. She began to stealthily make her way across the long corridor, her senses trained on the living room from which emanated soft girlish giggles and childish laughter. It rankled, that people could be enjoying themselves when Lorcan could not, when Lysander spent his days drinking himself into unconsciousness. Merlin knows she had tried to help him; she would have given her life in an instant to help her boys. But Lysander didn't respond to her, he rarely responded to anyone save for the Weasley girl and more often than not Luna was forced to slip sleeping draughts into her sons drinks to give him the peace of a few hours of dreamless sleep. The war had taken everything from her, her husband, her sons, even her sanity . . . she would be damned if she didn't make her enemies feel her pain.

Luna was halfway across the passageway when she heard the soft click of a door being opened and froze when a wand was pressed into the back of her neck.

"Who the hell are you?" snarled a young girl, who was roughly her son's age. She looked the picture of innocence with her strawberry blonde curls and rosy pink lips, but the hard look in her eyes made it evident that she would not hesitate to kill Luna where she stood. But the soft shiver of her wand made her hesitation evident; she was hiding her own fear behind a wall of angry and hostility.

However, Luna Scamander had been fighting this war since her fourth year at Hogwarts and she had spent the better part of the decade locked in the most terrifying wizard prison in the world whereas this girl, for all her spunk had never seen a real battle in her life. The shocked look on her face said as much when her wand went clattering across the room and Luna's elbow caught her in the jaw, splitting her lip in the process. It was obvious that the girl had never been on the receiving end of a wandless, nonverbal spell before and had definitely never been struck in the face. Luna envied her; despite being on the dark side she was still had what many would call a perfect life.

Her wand pressed against her victim's throat, she yanked her upwards by her hair and dragged her behind her, the sparking green light at the tip of her wand making it painfully clear that Luna had a killing curse on the tip of her tongue. The strawberry blonde bit her lip nervously, hoping her mothe would have been triggered by the wards and would come to her aid. Passing an empty bedroom, Luna tossed the witch in and quickly silenced the room as she decided to have some fun with her hostage.

The girl had barely hit the floor before the cruciatus curse hit her, her piercing screams echoing through the room and causing the older witch to laugh manically. How was this girl allowed to live when her son was not? Obviously a mistake had been made at some point and the fates had cut the wrong thread, a thing that was of small consequence now. Luna would rectify the error, even if doing so would not resurrect Lorcan it was her duty to put right the ignoramus misrepresentations that had occurred within the river of time. Already she had corrected the untimely death of her husband by killing Gregory Goyle, now she would correct the death of her eldest son, who had come into the world kicking and screaming a full three minutes ahead of Lysander.

"Crucio," she said coldly a second time, striking the girl quickly before she could recover, sadistically enjoying the agony she was causing to this girl. A small part of her brain recognised her from the intelligence the Order had obtained on Astoria Nott; this was her daughter eighteen year old daughter Alyssa. Somehow the knowledge made her angrier, her patience grew thin as she drew her wand and muttered a curse that was decidedly darker than the cruciatus.

"Sanguis Autem Fervens," a delighted smile playing across her face as the spell took effect, Alyssa's skin began to turn a tender pink as within her vessels, her blood began to boil. Her skin bubbled slightly as blisters broke across the surface, spouting pus and blood across the immaculate cream carpet.

She was dying too quickly though, she had barely even begun to suffer. No, there was so much more than Luna could do before she passed her final judgement. Remorselessly she flicked her wand at the screaming girl, "Dolor Extrahentur," she muttered and the girl's body began to rapidly heal itself, keeping her from slipping across the threshold of death. It was entertaining to see her writhe across the floor, her skin crackling and hissing before healing perfectly, signalling for the process to begin again. For good measure, Luna trained her wand on her and invoked the cruciatus again.

"Lacrime Acerbius," she was growing bored now, it had already been twenty minutes since she had first found the girl and Luna was growing weary of seeing the girl's tears. Therefore, the purpose of her latest spell was to turn them to acid. It was with a feeling of great satisfaction that she finally stabbed her wand through the air and conjured a long pitch black serpent; Lorcan had been killed by Nagini after all and their deaths had to in the same fashion. It was the only way to correct the accidents of fate. It was why she had used the severing charm to slit Goyle's throat, Rolf had been decapitated and she hadn't had the energy to cast an _Incisura _after so long in Azkaban at that point in time.

She turned towards the door, vaguely remembering that she was on a mission as behind her the snake lunged, over and over again until Alyssa finally stopped twitching.

(*)(*)(*)

When Molly stepped into the living room, the first thing she noticed where the two girls seated on the floor on either side of a low coffee table. Two mugs of steaming hot chocolate were set down beside them as they purposefully argued over a game of Wizards Chess. The brunette seemed younger, though her features seemed oddly familiar to Molly. The older girl, obviously her sister, sported a vaguely familiar pair of horn-rimmed glasses, bright ginger hair falling in lanky waves down her back. They were just children, young girls; the eldest could not have been older than James whilst the other seemed younger than Roxanne. Her wand outstretched, Molly hesitated unsure of whether to kill them. They were so young, so oddly familiar.

The ginger haired girl laughed and tossed back her arm in a languid, relaxed motion causing her sleeve to hitch slightly and bare her wrist. The decision was made the instant Molly spotted the black snake and skull tattooed across her forearm and before she could have any second thoughts the killing curse was cast, there was a flash of green light and the brunette slumped forward over the coffee table, upsetting the chessboard and sending the pieces dashing for cover. The elder girl was on her feet in a heartbeat, wand raised defensively but seconds later a second jet of green light struck her in the chest, sending her sprawling backwards over the body of her sister, the silver locket around her neck whipping forward as she was hurled back.

The girls were obviously sisters despite their different hair colour, they both had the same bright blue eyes and you could see it in their matching features. But it wasn't that that caused the older witch to freeze, what chilled her was that she knew that locket. Trembling she moved forward and picked it up, her heart sinking as she undid the delicate clasp.

The first picture was of the two girls, the two she had just murdered, both wearing Ravenclaw uniforms and laughing brightly at the camera. The eldest had her broomstick over her shoulder; the youngest clutched a few books to her chest. In the background of the tiny portrait stood Hogwarts, silhouetted against a darkening sky and she could see the faint outline of a thestral soaring over the Forbidden Forest. The second picture was of a woman, her soft brown curls bouncing around her smiling face, her arms flung around a tall lanky man with the unmistakable red hair of a Weasley.

Her eyes drifted to the girls in horror, realization of her crime sinking in as she sank to her knees, desperately trying to rouse them. An impossible task but she tried anyway, hot tears spilling from her cheeks as broken wails were flung from her trembling lips. She hadn't known. God help her, she hadn't known.

That was how Luna found her, crying hysterically over the lifeless bodies of the granddaughters she had never known.

(*)(*)(*)

Angelina edged the doorway open slowly, her eyes never wavering from the elegant blonde woman stirring a cup of tea with her back to her kitchen door. Her wand arm outstretched, aimed at Astoria's back she silently stepped across the threshold, the silencing charm she had cast to mask her footsteps working in full affect. "Avade Keda - " she began under her breath when she was interrupted by a soft laugh.

"Really now Mrs. Weasley, isn't it rude to enter a person's home uninvited," she said in a lilting voice, not bothering to turn, the soft chink of silver against china echoing through the silent room. There was a sharp whooshing sound and a large knife flew across the room, slamming into the doorframe and missing Angelina's head by mere centimetres.

"You missed," said Angelina warily, noticing the set of knives in their block begin to quiver slightly under the other witches magic.

"More fool you if you think that, they go where I want them to go," was the genial answer and as if to emphasise her point, a second blade came hurtling through the air and imbedding itself beside the first knife. In all this time Astoria had not moved save to bring her delicate cup to her blood red lips.

"So what brings you to my home Mrs. Weasley?" Astoria asked cordially as she turned to face the former Gryffindor quidditch captain. Apart from the dangerous glint in the younger woman's eyes and the Mark of Bellatrix between her collarbones, one could assume the two women were having a friendly chat.

"The answer to that is fairly obvious, is it not Nott?" Angelina responded levelly, her eyes flickering to the nearby counter over which hovered the full set of knives, telekinetically suspended in mid-air.

"What a clever pun," she said with a sugary fake smile, "But as I have no intention of dying tonight, I fear your children will soon be motherless." The knives tensed as she allowed a sadistic grin to play across her refined features before they flew through the air, one after another in a lethal horizontal rain.

Her younger years as a quidditch star for her house had steeled her reflexes though, moving lithely she avoided the pursuing blades, cursing as she missed her final step and felt a jagged edged steak knife pierce her right shoulder. Angelina clenched her teeth to keep from screaming as blood blossomed across her blouse.

"Impressive," smirked Astoria as she drew her wand, "No one has ever survived by telekinesis."

"You will find," snarled Angelina in pain and anger, "That I am not easy prey."

(*)(*)(*)

The fire in the cave mouth crackled merrily, filling the spacious cavern with warmth and flickering firelight. The stone walls were glassy smooth, worn away and polished to perfection by the caverns previous inhabitants, a dragon who had used the cave as her den during nesting season many years ago. Thankfully the cavern had been deserted when the quartet had discovered it, none of them were in any shape to have to take on a nesting dragon during mating season. International Apparition was an extremely draining activity and nobody envied them having to make such a long and magically taxing jump.

The cavern had already been heavily enchanted by Hermione and Ginny, both women deciding that it would serve splendidly as their temporary base of operations whilst they sought out the legendary Mother of Dragons. A week earlier, the four would have scoffed at such a notion and dismissed it as a childish bedtime story but if Voldemort himself was sending agents to liaise with the enigmatic figure then there was obviously a kernel of truth to the draconic fable. The two Malfoys were now cuddled together near the roaring fire, watching the snowflakes fall over the towering mountains that surrounded them, deep in a whispered conversation. Harry and Ginny on the other hand were reclining on the soft, double bed Ginny had transfigured out of a roughly hewn boulder. The kids may be content to have packed tents and sleeping bags, but her generation had never lacked for common sense. They were magical after all, why sleep on the floor in a muggle cocoon when you could transfigure anything around you into a four poster bed.

"Why didn't I take you with me when we went hunting the Horcruxes?" Harry sighed blissfully rubbing his full stomach, Ginny had taken to culinary and household spells as quickly as she had taken to her famous bat-bogey hex. His meals during his two years of Horcrux hunting had comprised of burnt fish, poisonous mushrooms and acorn paste for the most part and there were times when he had felt that starvation would beat Voldemort in killing him. Needless to say, those horrendous meals were a far cry from the scrumptious cuisine his wife could whip up in an instant.

"If I remember correctly, you were determined to keep me safe," she smiled, "Though that went straight out the window once I got back to Hogwarts and reformed the D.A."

"Well at least we know where Lily gets her spitfire personality from," he grinned teasingly, his laughter dying when he saw the worried look appear on her face.

"I hope she's ok," Ginny said quietly, referring of course to the mission into the Forest Ways.

"She's with Scor, you know he'll die before he lets anything happen to her," said Harry seriously, even though he himself was far from reassured. Lily was his only daughter and Scorpius was akin to a fourth son, both of them had left on a very obscure assignment that was fraught with unimaginable peril.

"That's the problem Harry," she sighed, "She'll do the same for him and they're both my kids, I can't lose either of them."

"They'll be fine Gin, nobody knows their Defense against the Dark Arts better than Lily and Scorpius is a master when it comes to Transfiguration."

"That doesn't make it any easier," she smiled wanly, deciding to stir the subject away from depressing and worrying topics she brought up another of her surrogate sons, "What about Teddy, our boy is getting married and having a son of his own, do you know how that makes me feel?"

Harry looked at her for a long moment pondering the answer before shrugging in defeat, "Old I guess."

"No you Tosser, I feel proud that we raised such a fine young man," she said, smacking him lightly on the chest.

"Oh that, well you raised a fine young man, I spent most of my time spoiling the kid," Harry smiled, remembering how all six of his children had often come to him behind their mother's back for sweets, treats or basically anything that "Mum" or "Aunt Ginny" had forbidden them.

"You really should give yourself more credit Potter," she said, leaning in so their lips were inches apart, "You did accomplish a lot after all."

"What did I accomplish?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Well obviously your greatest accomplishment was marrying me."

"I never did meet those veela whilst on my mission you know," he said teasingly, feeling her breath ghost across his chin.

"There's the silver lining I've been waiting for," she smiled, her lips softly meeting his.

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: Well my dear readers, how do you find this chapter? What are your views on Luna? What about Molly? Any guesses on what these latest revelations would do to her already deteriorating mind? And you know have an insight into Cassandra and what makes her so dangerous in her own right. Please Read and Review, even if they're left as guest reviews. It only takes about a minute to send one in and I really want to thank everybody who had reviewed, favourited or followed this story so far.

A/N 2: Hey Dramione shippers, please be sure to check out my latest one shot, "Let's Pretend." It's a one shot and you all can catch a link to it on my profile. Viva la Dramione!


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Eye of the Dragon**

"Your first International Apparition," Altair asked lightly as she stirred, her head pounding as she opened her eyes and felt oddly thankful that the blizzard outside the cave was obscuring the sun and keeping the light to a minimum.

Dominique nodded, her mouth too dry for her to speak. Realising this Altair held a canteen against her lips, allowing the magically conjured liquid to trickle down her parched throat. Groaning in protest as he gently pulled it away, she chose not to complain when he pressed a basic wooden bowl into her hands, the rich scent of rabbit wafting across her face causing her mouth to water appreciatively at the meaty broth he had made. Gratefully, she brought a shaky spoonful to her lips and sighed in contentment.

"In that case you're faring better than you should, my first international jump left me unconscious for a week," he said as he helped himself to a bowl of the savoury broth.

"Guess I'm just lucky," she said weakly, forcing a wan smile to her face. She didn't feel lucky, she felt drained and lethargic to the point where she suspected she would not manage so much as a few steps outside the relative comfort of their cave. While apparition was a relatively harmless form of transport that was both efficient and safe for wizards, having to apparate to another time-zone caused a very strong drain on ones magical reserves and international apparition often forces a wizard into crossing several time-zones simultaneously. Altair had been serious, his first international apparition had been when he was seven and running away from his mother's growing madness. Lucian Grey had been less malevolent in those days and the fact that he was a young werewolf, a "pup" in the then Beta's eyes had been enough for the older man to take him side-along to Italy, far from Bella's reach. The subsequent trip had very nearly killed him, his werewolf genes being all that kept him alive.

"You need to rest and get your strength up quickly, I saw Macnair and a few of his cronies today," he said urgently, he had spied the death eaters when he went hunting for their dinner. Dominique had brought food supplies with her and had placed a preservation charm on her satchel to keep the food fresh. Unfortunately it was impossible to cast a preservation charm in conjunction with an undetectable expansion charm and so their rations were limited. Altair preferred to live of the land as best they could seeing as the deeper they got into the mountains, the less hospitable the terrain would be.

"How far are we from the Valley?" she asked, embarrassed that she was slowing them down on their assignment.

"Two days as the crow flies," at the quizzical look he shrugged, "I used a navigation spell."

"They have a head start on us then, we'll never beat them unless we literally can run there on all fours," she said with a mad glint in her eyes, something Altair had come to call the Weasley fire.

"Tonight is a full moon," he said with a light grin, hiding his minor trepidation at her idea. In their werewolf bodies they could quite literally reach the giants settlement within hours. But the risk was great, their self-control would be at its weakest, the slightest drop of blood, the smallest distraction could divert them from their task. It was why he, like many werewolves of his generation preferred to drink the Wolfsbane potion and sleep contentedly like tame dogs during the full moon. The rush and ecstasy of their lupine bodies was nothing compared to the guilt and remorse they would undoubtedly feel when they returned to their normal selves and discovered that had killed or worse, spread their curse, whilst lost in their wolfish madness.

"I hope I remembered the potions," she responded slyly, grinning as she rummaged through her satchel and then shrugged wryly, "Would you look at that, I must have left them at the Wolf's Den."

"How careless," he smirked, feeling the first convulsions begin to act upon his body as the moon peeked from behind the snowy clouds.

(*)(*)(*)

The first thought that sped through Harry's mind when he set eyes on the Mother of Dragons was that, _that is one big ass Dragon._ This was perfectly mirrored by Draco, whose first words upon catching sight of the reason his scar-faced friend had stopped dead in his tracks were, _Oh Fuck_.

She was massive, what the four had first thought of as a jagged chain of rocky outcroppings were in fact the spikes running down the length of her tail. Her body was a mountainous expanse that curled languidly across their path, her scales fiery red under the dust, snow and stone that had accumulated over the centuries, camouflaging her from the mortal world. Her horns were fearsome peaks that pierced the clouds; her eyes were shallow lakes of acid green venom. When her nostrils dilated to expel her breath, Hermione could easily mistake the dark holes for caverns large enough to house a small herd of elephants. She was beyond _big_**; **she was monumental and radiated power the likes of which none of them had ever felt. Instantly they could tell that her might was something beyond their comprehension, she was ancient enough that she have been old when the mountains around her where still young.

Swallowing the fear that was filling him, Harry touched his throat with his wand to amplify his voice and he spoke, fighting to keep his voice firm and impassive in the face of such majesty.

"Greetings Dragon Mother," he began hesitantly, as he stepped backwards under the intense gaze of her vicious green eyes, "I am Harry Potter, an envoy of the Order of the Phoenix."

"_**Be warned child, this mountain is sacred to my descendants and I, leave now or suffer my wrath." **_Her voice echoed magnanimously within his head, as if implanted there by his own thoughts. From the looks on the other's faces, it was obvious that they could hear her too. Still he had come too far too turn back now and James was depending on him to at the very least, ensure the dragons remained neutral in the coming battles of the war. With only one horcrux remaining, he too knew that the final confrontation was fast approaching and that the Order would need every advantage it could get in what was promising to be an apocalyptic fight.

"Please hear us out," Hermione's magically amplified voice sounded from behind him, her tone pleading.

"_**Leave or the fate of those who have come before will be your own." **_Her great eyes slid in a silent gesture so that they were trained on the jagged rocks below the precipice they were standing on, and with a looming sense of horror Harry could see countless black robes whipping in the icy wind, ripped and slashed by their deadly descent. Beside him, Ginny tightened her grip on his arm.

"The servants of Voldem –"

"_**DO NOT SPEAK HIS NAME IN MY PRESENCE," **_and they all flinched at the roaring anger in her voice, _**"That foul abomination, murderer of my children, corruptor of my brood."**_

"He has wronged you then," said Draco, "Surely you want revenge?"

"_**Revenge? I have considered i, since the day he stole the eggs of my descendants, the youngest generation of my children . . . HE DEFILED THEM, WITH DARK MAGIC, FILLED MY NOBLE BROOD WITH HIS MALICE AND NECROMANCY, but still they are my children . . . I will protect my own magi, I will not see dragon spill the blood of dragon."**_

"A decade ago I would have agreed with you on standing united but now I'm not so sure, doing what is right and doing what is easy are two things that are often confused. You are choosing the easy path, reconsider, if Voldemort has dragons on his side then we are lost. Do what is right," Harry said haltingly, choosing his words with care.

"_**You remind me of another magi," **_her tone carried the faintest trace of amusement, an odd combination with her anguish and rage, _**"A brave man he was, your own ancestor. He required my favour as well, a sword he forged with the help of goblins, but the blade could never temper, shattering whenever it was submersed in water. I aided him, and tamed the cursed sword in my own blood. The pain, a thousand years and I still cannot forget the pain . . . and now you come once again with desires for the blood of dragons to be spilled in a wizard's war."**_

"If he wins," Ginny spoke for the first time, "It won't matter what species you belong too. Goblins, centaurs, werewolves, human and even dragons, he will enslave us all, one by one and he will kill all who stand in his way. I ask you as only a mother can, bring your armies into this war and fight, fight for a future where your descendants can live in freedom and peace that you want for them."

"My son is on the frontlines of this war; all I can do is hope and pray that he comes home safely. But he's fighting for a future that he believes in. Surely, if we humans can send our children to war then you can do the same," said Hermione pleadingly.

"I have seen my children return bloody and broken more times than I care to remember but no matter how much I beg them to remain at home they refuse to heed me. They know that what they're fighting for is worth the risk, no matter how much I disagree I accept their choice," said Ginny in a voice thick with emotion. Harry and Draco held their wives protectively as the Dragon Mother narrowed her eyes dangerously at the four.

The dragon mother seemed to ponder for a long time, her eyes roaming the mountainside, taking in the ragged cloaks and empty nests that littered the landscape. She let her senses roam, sinking them into the earth as she felt its tortured screaming, the strong blight of darkness looming and spreading across the poison water than no dragon could drink. The island, on which lived the last of the Dragon Masters in ancient times, in the days when wizard and dragon lived side by side, the island kingdom that these young children came from. That was what they were in her eyes, for the lifespan of a human is akin to the burning of a candle in the eyes of a dragon. She looked into their minds, she saw the pain and suffering they had faced. The brave raven that was so much like the ancestor who first drew her blood; who bore a lightning shaped scar and who had devoted his life to the downfall of the Dark Lord. The fiery ruby, which had raised her children and watched them all go to war one by one till she alone remained and waited, hoping they would return alive. The white gold, who had endured inconceivable torture for over a decade in the dungeons of his own home at the hands of the Dark One. And the deep brown earth, the mother who had abandoned her own children to fight for what she believed in. The mother of dragons finally spoke, her voice filling their minds and echoing of their every memory.

"_**When the day of your final fight begins, look to the skies."**_

(*)(*)(*)

Molly sat alone in her bedroom, nursing a cup of tea as she stared bitterly into the night sky. Her son George was in mourning, losing himself in a bottle of firewhiskey as he grieved for his wife. Roxanne and Fred were in shock, both still locked in their rooms as they tried to process this latest upheaval in their lives. And Molly, she grieved not just for her daughter-in-law but for the two girls she had murdered in cold blood, Percy's daughters. She had washed her bloody hands for hours till they were red and wrinkled, the skin scoured raw. It had been too much for her, killing the girls had left her an emotional wreck and she had been forced to lean on Luna for physical support just to leave the Manor. The blonde witch had then cast the Fiendfyre to envelop the manor, hoping to trap Astoria after they both heard Angelina's deadly scream of pain. Molly had tried to save her daughter-in-law, she had flung herself forwards towards the dark flames before being stunned in the back by her teammate. And from what she had heard after coming too in her bed here at Weasley Manor was that Angelina had died dragging Astoria into the raging inferno, both witches incinerated to ash.

"Hello mum," said the familiar voice behind her, she turned her head slightly and forced a watery smile to her face. At least he was sober, at least he wasn't going the same way as Lysander.

"George," she said, getting to her feet and walking towards him, surprised that she hadn't heard the door open when he first entered.

"You never could tell us apart could you mum," said her son sadly, his eyes downcast as he brushed his hair behind his ears. _Ears?_

"Fred?" she murmured breathlessly as she tried to touch him, pulling her hand back sharply as his image wavered, vanished and then reappeared across the room from her.

"Why didn't you avenge me mum? Why did you hesitate? Why is Bellatrix still alive?" he asked despondently, "Is it because you never really cared for me?"

"Freddie, how could you think that?" she asked, her heart breaking all over again at her late sons words.

"Because that's who you are, an evil uncaring hag who doesn't give a damn about her family" said another voice from behind her, "Why didn't you stop me mother? Why did you let me die for a woman who never loved me?" Molly froze as her youngest son appeared seated on her dresser, his eyes accusing and angry.

"Ronald . . ." there really wasn't much more she could say, "You knew her heart lay elsewhere."

"What do you know of hearts woman?" asked Angelina from the window-seat she had just vacated, "You left me to die in that forsaken manor!"

"I tried to save you Angie," she said, sobbing slightly as Ron scoffed and Fred shook his head in a disbelieving manner, "I did, but she stunned me. I swear I tried to save you all."

"Why is Bellatrix still alive? Why have I not been avenged?" asked Fred.

"Are you waiting for more of us to die?" sneered Ron.

"Will you only then seek revenge? Will you only save us when my children have gone the same way as their mother?" asked Angelina, spectral tears falling from her eyes.

"You don't care about your family," said a brunette girl perched on the edge of the bed.

"If you cared you wouldn't have killed us. . ." said her fiery haired sister from beside her.

"Why did you kill us Grandma Molly?" they asked in unison.

"I didn't know. I DIDN'T KNOW!" Molly screamed, clutching at her head as she sank to the floor.

"When will you know how to protect your children? When Bill and Charlie have joined us?"

"When Ginny and George lie beside us?"

"When my nephews and nieces fall like leaves in a gale?"

"STOP IT! STOP IT! GO AWAY! JUST STOP TALKING!"

"Molly! What's going on?" Arthur Weasley burst into the room, closely followed by George and Fred II. The Weasley patriarch stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of his wife, shaking violently in the floor as she screamed at the air around her, clawing bloody furrows in her cheeks as she cried hysterically.

"Arthur!" she sobbed brokenly, "Make them stop, tell them to go away."

"Molly," he said helplessly, his eyes and voice laced with worry as he knelt beside her, "There's nobody here."

(*)(*)(*)

Scorpius let out a low groan as he sank against the rough stone wall of the subterranean cavern, nursing the raw burns across his left leg. Magically, he could have healed the wound in a matter of minutes but the catacombs were in the grip of extremely powerful wards, enchantments older than those placed on Hogwarts itself. His wand was useless in here, a feeble piece of wood that would not so much as cast a simple _Lumos._ The owl-spirit had been right in that they would have no significant magical power whilst inside the catacombs.Wandlessly, he had been able to negate the worst of the damage but it had been incredibly draining on his reserves and Lily wasn't faring much better.

She was curled up against his uninjured side, already asleep after the latest of their trials. They both had no idea how long they had been down there, time seemed to have little meaning in these forgotten tunnels. The last time he had bothered checking his watch, it had been ticking backwards and the time before that it hadn't been ticking at all. Too his knowledge it felt like they had been there for weeks and their only hope was based on the fact that the deeper they descended into the depths, the brighter the pearl seemed to glow. He took it to mean that they were getting closer to their destination.

He bent double as a fit of coughing caused him to double over, his throat feeling dry and raspy as he clutched his heaving chest. Water was difficult to come by and they were both forced to survive on a few sips every few hours, it took too much energy to refill their canteens at closer intervals. Food was even scarcer; they had been surviving on what few roots and tubers they could find in the dank labyrinth. Scorp would have gladly used his transfiguration skills to make them something edible but he was both wandless and food was one of the few exceptions to elemental transfiguration. He could multiply food if they had any or change a meal into something they were more partial too but unfortunately, neither of them had anything remotely edible to transfigure in the first place. It was getting to the point where both were wondering if Lily's leather jacket could be transfigured back into a cow.

The trials guarding the Oasis where an even greater challenge than the malnutrition, already they had been forced to fight their way past a banshee, a wraith and most recently a pair of relatively intelligent trolls. With only Lily's knife and his animagus form as weapons, it had been an extremely difficult set of battles and they had lost count of the number of times they had almost been killed. The magical defences were even more formidable, his burns were the result of one such machination. Who knew that phoenix fire could be harnessed in such a malicious way?

The pain was becoming too strong to contend with and against his better judgement; his fingertips found the raw flesh and soothingly emitted a few healing sparks of vibrant blue energy. He relaxed slightly as the skin knitted together, at the very least he would no longer carry the scars of his latest punishment but it had been a superficial spell, only treating the pain and not the actual damage that the wound had caused but it would have to do for the moment. He was too drained to attempt anything more powerful.

"Scor," he heard her voice faintly against his side, she had taken as much a beating as he had. Her face and hands were interlaced with cuts and scrapes, across her lower back lay a jagged tear that she had been forced to wandlessly heal the otherwise fatal slash, the resulting expense of energy leaving her weak and delirious for hours. From the way she limped at his side when they walked, he was sure that her ankle was either sprained or broken, something which she vehemently denied. He didn't need to be a Legilimens to know that she was scared of seeming weak in the face of such danger and it didn't really faze him that she was trying to stay strong. She had always been the stronger one in their relationship, the person he had leaned on for support but just this once he wished she would let herself lean on him instead.

"You ok Lily?"

"I'm fine," she lied unconvincingly, the feeble twitching of her fingers against his giving all the more credence to her dishonesty.

"Don't" he whispered, stroking her hair out of her eyes, ignoring the sticky strands that were slowly crusting with drying blood.

"Don't what?" she asked.

"You don't have to be strong for me all the time Lily, you shouldn't have to pretend for me."

"Scorpius," she said his name gently, touched by his sentiment.

"I know you're strong and that you'll never stop fighting Lily, but when you can't fight anymore I hope you know that I'll be there to carry you," he said, scooting closer to her for warmth in the chilly dampness of the cave.

"I know," she murmured, kissing him chastely on the cheek, "But I don't need to be carried just yet."

(*)(*)(*)

Bill and Teddy moved feverishly through the darkening woods, purposefully ignoring the savage cries of the pursuing goblins. The mission had been a failure; the goblins had steadfastly refused to take a side in the war. Years of mistreatment at the hands of wizards on both sides of the conflict had soured them to all dealings with humanity and the recent seizure of Gringotts by Voldemort had caused the rapidly deteriorating bridge between the two races to be permanently sundered. Goblins were known for their malicious pride and shrewd natures, the loss of the bank which had been in their races control since the very foundation of Hogwarts had been a dire strike against them.

After two days of attempted liaisons with the spiteful chieftains that governed the goblin race, Bill had realised that they weren't nor would they ever make any headway in their mission and had decided to leave. Teddy had attempted to convince the older man that perhaps if they gave it more time then their efforts may be rewarded, however his protests had fallen on deaf ears and he had been forced to concede to his future father-in-laws knowledge of the goblin nation. Bill had after all worked with the goblins for several years prior to the start of the second wizarding war.

However before taking their leave of the various goblin chieftains, they had been unable to resist the urge to seize the fabled artefact hanging on the most powerful chieftain's wall, the weapon that the Order had been actively seeking for the past decade. It was that action that now had every goblin in the village hot on their heels, baying for their blood and armed with a veritable armoury of goblin-made steel. Goblin made weaponry takes in everything that makes it stronger and it was becoming painfully obvious that it absorbed curses as well, Teddy's stunning spell having been soaked into the lead goblins breastplate. The border to the anti-apparition wards surrounding the village was less than a quarter of a mile away and both men were sprinting to reach it ahead of their foes.

A goblin burst from the tree's in front of them, brandishing a wickedly curved battle-axe and swept it through the air in a savage undercut. Teddy moved quickly, years of training with knives and daggers paying off as he twisted away before burying the newly reclaimed Sword of Gryffindor in the goblins head, right between the bulbous eyes. Whirling he saw Bill slam his fist into a portly goblins head, before claiming a spiked flail from his dizzy opponents grasp and caving his foes face in with it without a moment's hesitation.

They took off again, pausing only to dispatch any members of the tribe which caught up to them, their tall, athletic builds putting them at a speedy advantage against their stockier foes. Teddy fought a wave of dizziness as they broke the tree line, glancing down he noticed the dagger fully sheathed in his thigh. Gritting his teeth and wondering when it had gotten there, he yanked it out in a spray of blood before turning and sending it whipping into the throat of a mace-wielding chieftain.

There was a loud cry of pain followed by a dull thud from behind him and when he spun he felt rage building up in his chest. His partner in this mission slumped to the ground clutching a profusely bleeding stab wound to his belly. He moved forward with a howl on his lips, his werewolf heritage emphasised by his slightly pointed teeth as the Sword took off the offending goblins head in a single bloody stroke. Kneeling, he grabbed the fallen body of Bill Weasley and dragged him as quickly as he dared before reaching the boundaries. He hurriedly apparated with a crack to safety, the sword clutched in his free hand.

The sandy shores of Shell Cottage was a distinct change from the woody forests that the goblins called home, Teddy dropped the sword at his side as he began tending to the older man, his screams for help echoing up to the nearby family home. Ripping away Bill's shirt he blanched at the sight of the gaping wound, his werewolf senses smelling the coppery blood and bitter spinal fluid. The sword that had stabbed the man had punched right through his stomach and vertebrae and Teddy could tell by the unnatural stillness of his lower body that he had been paralysed.

"Just hold on Bill," Teddy pleaded as he pressed his jacket against the wound to stop the bleeding, already realising that it may be too late for him, "Help is coming." He could see the blonde silhouettes of Fleur and Victoire racing down the beach. Bill was deathly pale as he grabbed him by the collar and yanked him down to is face.

"You better . . ." Bill coughed bloodily, "Take bloody good. . . care" another fit of coughing overtook his body, "of my princess."

"She is my Queen," answered Teddy without hesitation and Bill Weasley looked oddly satisfied as his heart stilled in his chest.

(*)(*)(*)

"Lysander," Roxanne asked quietly entering his darkened room, her nose wrinkling slightly at the stale, acrid odour of alcohol and smoke. Tear tracks marred her caramel skin, but she wasn't crying now. Despite having just lost her mother, she seemed numb to the expected pain, she wondered if perhaps it was because she had used up all her grief and tears on Lorcan.

"What?" snapped Lysander, his angry face softening when he saw Roxanne. Pushing aside the bottle of oak-matured mead he had been gulping, he shakily got to his feet and went over to her whilst feeling slightly embarrassed that she had to see him this way. Whilst he still showered daily, the thick stubble on his cheeks indicated that he hadn't shaved in days. His clothes were untidy and dirty, his skin unnaturally pale from his limited exposure to the sun.

When she had first come into his life, he had resented the dark-haired girl because Lorcan began spending more time with her than with him. Over time though, he had grown to accept her as a part of his brother's life and his jealously had waned, despite not completely dissipating. Now as he grieved his other-half's death and she grieved for her lover they had become closer. They alone seemed to know what the other was feeling, because in essence they were feeling the same thing.

"Does it ever stop hurting?" Roxy asked quietly, "Losing a member of your family?" Losing her mother was a different sort of pain than losing Lorcan, it was much sharper and seemed to stab at every forgotten recess of her heart whilst when Lorcan had passed she had just felt broken.

"I wouldn't know," Lysander said dully, gesturing to the filthy room, his unshaven face making him look surprisingly feral in the dim light. Before Azkaban he had never so drank sparsely, a single glass usually being his limit when in company. He had never so much as touched one of the muggle cigarettes that her elder brother Fred was so fond of, but recently he welcomed their soothing lightness and the numbness that accompanied nicotine and alcohol.

"This isn't you Ly," she said softly, reaching out and patting his arm, "Lorcan wouldn't want this."

"We'll never know will we?" he responded listlessly, feeling ashamed that a girl who had just lost her mother had to comfort him.

"They never really go away, they're still here," she said as she placed her hand over his heart, "They live on in us."

"Is that how you're coping? With your mum?" he asked.

"Yes," she admitted, "It's hard Ly. I want to just curl up and die, I want to snap my wand in half and scream till I can't shout anymore. But that's not what mum would want for me. She'd want me to be strong."

"We can't all be as strong as you Roxy," he said, consciously aware that her palm was still pressed against his heart. For the first time since his brother died, he could feel his heart race, he could feel himself react to something other than grief and heartache.

"I'm not strong, I'm just pretending to be," she sighed.

"I can pretend to," he said, and before he knew it his lips were on hers, and she was kissing him back as if their lives depended on it. His pain dulled, her scent intoxicating him more fervently than any bottle ever had.

Tumbling backwards, they landed backwards on his bed and for the first time in weeks, Lysander experienced a need to feel, a need to move on and feel things that he had been numbing himself against for so long. He felt her nails dig painfully into his bare back, he felt her breath caressing his earlobe as she moaned and writhed and cried his name.

In that moment Lysander knew that just maybe, they would be ok.

(*)(*)(*)

A/N : Well what do you think? Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Reviews are love. Can we try and reach a hundred by the next update please? This is the longest chapter so far in the story with 5085 words.


	17. Chapter 17

_Chapter Seventeen_

_Written in The Stars _

_The stars where shining brightly as Hermione settled herself on the porch with a goblet of elf-made wine, losing herself in the constellations she had long since grown to love as she felt the memories of her lifetime flit before her mind's eye. Today was the day she had first run away with him, the day she had chosen to leave the Order because of her love for Draco. Today was the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, the iconic battle that had changed their lives in ways they would never have imagined at the time. She had been given two beautiful children, a loving husband and had been forced to take the Dark Mark. She had missed out on twelve years of her family's lives by entrapping herself in crystal, an ancient spell to keep the Soul Container out of Voldemorts hands. The container had been disposed of; ancient and powerful as it were it had not lasted against her Archfyre. Ordinarily she would have been remorseful about destroying an object so steeped in wizarding history but there was no denying that the Container could never be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. _

_Even now after all the pain and suffering Hermione found that she could not bring herself to regret her decisions. Every page she had written in her book of life had led her to where she was today. She could feel in her bones that this chapter, the chapter concerning the second wizarding war was drawing to a close. This time she would enter the fight with Draco at her side and for good or ill she would not run. _

_Her wand flourished fluidly through the air as she cast a spell similar to the enchantment used on a pensieve and smiled lightly as her memories began playing before her like a muggle television show. _

"**You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach," she screamed as she whipped her wand through the air and pressed the tip to his throat. Dimly she was aware of Harry's voice in the background telling her that he wasn't worth it but she didn't care of how much worth cursing him would be. How could anybody be so jovial about causing the death of an innocent creature like Buckbeak?**

**She hesitated at the terrified look in his grey eyes and slowly turned away, freezing as she heard him snigger at his cronies. Seeing red she whirled back around, her fist connecting with his face and breaking his nose with a very satisfying crack. **

**(*)**

"**Hey Granger," he called urgently as he hurried up to her in the corridor, thanking Merlin that she was alone. **

"**What do you want Malfoy?" she snapped, not bothering to turn around but pausing to listen all the same. **

"**Well uhm," he shifted uncomfortably behind her, "I guess I wanted to apologise for the whole thing with Birkbeak," he finished rather lamely, running a hand through his platinum locks nervously. From his halting tone and tetchy demeanour Hermione could tell that he wasn't accustomed to handing our apologies.**

"**Who are you and what have you done with Malfoy?" asked Hermione in shock, not bothering to correct him over the Hippogriff's name. **

"**It's just that nobody really stood up to me before, then you socked me and it made me realise that it's not as fun to be on the receiving end."**

"**Maybe I should hit you more often," she said sarcastically. **

"**Merlin no, my nose still hurts" he said with a trace of abject fear before hurrying off in the other direction. Hermione smiled to herself, shaking her head as she walked away, maybe she should hit Ron next time he was behaving like a git and see if she managed to get his attention.**

**(*)**

"**Oi! Granger," he yelled as he caught sight of her in the owlery, thanking himself that he had managed to tear himself from Pansy before coming to deliver his letter. **

"**Hello Malfoy," thanking herself that Ron and Harry weren't around to see her being civil with the enemy. Since he had apologised to her last year the pair had formed a tentative sort of friendship and often spent secluded moments alone in the library. It was invigorating to talk to him, he was so different when compared to her boys, he was able to challenge her intellectually about topics other than quidditch or wizards chess. Best of all, he never seemed to need her help on his homework. **

"**Can I ask you something?" he asked, his cheeks tinged pink, most likely from the cold. **

"**Sure," she smiled. **

"**Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?" he asked hurriedly, and she realised that his pink tinge was a blush. She didn't blame him, she was sure her own cheeks were burning as well. This was Draco Malfoy! The Slytherin Prince and her maybe/sort-off/kinda friend and he was asking her, a lowly muggle-born to the dance? Oddly enough she couldn't help but feel the longing desire to accompany him to the dance had Krum not already asked her. Had she not agreed to go on the Bulgarian's arm she would say yes to Draco in a heartbeat and screw the consequences. **

"**Somebody already asked me" she said in embarrassment, ignoring the slightly crestfallen look on his face. Hurriedly his expression morphed back into its usual snide demeanour. He didn't say another word as he turned and walked the away from her, her only thought was that she had never seen somebody look so dejected.**

**(*)**

**She danced with Viktor the entire night, her eyes never leaving Draco as he elegantly spun Parkinson across the dance floor and noting that he shot frequent sour glances her way. Up till then she had never considered how badly she had hurt him by showing up on Viktor's arm, judging by the resigned look in his stormy eyes she came to the realization that maybe he saw her as more than a friend. What was she thinking? This was Malfoy! Yet despite Hermione being the envy of every girl in the Great Hall , all she could think was how much she would rather be dancing with the blonde Slytherin. **

**That night when she kissed the Bulgarian seeker, she couldn't help but picture grey eyes laced with mercurial silver and hair so blonde it was almost white. Halfway through the kiss there was sound of shattering glass and she broke away to see him, standing in the castle doorway clutching a broken goblet in his hand, before he took off into the castle.**

**(*)**

"**Draco," she said in a hushed voice as she yanked him into the hidden alcove on the fourth floor. **

"**What do you want Granger," he asked coldly, his expressionless eyes hiding how hurt he really was. He had always been talented at the Mind Arts, he had mentioned his improving grasp of Occlumency at their last study session before the Yule Ball.**

"**I . . . about the Yule Ball," she began, he had been avoiding her since that night. She was sure of it. **

"**Save it Granger, I get that I'm not good enough for the Gryffindor Princess. You don't need to get all noble and let me down gently." **

"**Draco stop," she said, pinning him against the wall when he made to leave. He protested and tried to push her back but stopped in stunned silence when she pressed her lips to his. Before long, he was kissing her too.**

**(*)**

"**He's back Hermione," Draco said urgently after she cornered him at the start of fifth year, he had been avoiding her since the tragic ending of the Triwizard Tournament, "He'll kill us both if he finds out about us."**

"**I'm willing to take that risk Draco," she said stubbornly, "You know how I feel about you."**

"**And you know how much I care about you. How do you think I'll feel if you get killed because of me?"**

**(*)**

"**My father's in Azkaban," he said dully from his seat beside the shores of the lake, the giant squid lazily flicking its tentacles towards the sun. **

"**I'm sorry Draco," she said, standing behind him sadly. She had feelings for him but they were no longer a couple, the Dark Lords burgeoning power slowly pulling them apart. He was a pureblood Malfoy and was expected to take the Dark Mark during the upcoming summer holidays and she was fighting for the Order, fighting against those who wished her dead just because of her muggle heritage. Hermione stood, unsure of whether to sit beside him or walk away, Lucius had tried very hard to kill her at the Department of Mysteries and she was unsure if whether she was the right person to comfort his son. Then again, who else did Draco have? **

**She settled down beside him and put an arm around his shoulders, letting him bury his head in the nape of her neck and offering whatever comfort she could. She knew he had a very estranged relationship with his father Lucius was still his dad and for some strange reason, he still loved the man. **

**(*)**

"**Run away with me," Draco said, grabbing her hand as he deflected a killing curse with a slash of his wand. All around them The Battle of Hogwarts raged, the air thick with screams and curses as people fought and fled and died. She looked at him, and took in the losing battle she was fighting, remembering all those around her who had already died, before looking into his eyes and making her decision.**

"**Let's go," she said, taking off in a sprint with her hand in his.**

**(*)**

_"**I love you Draco," she sighed as she lay down on her bed, smiling at the two year old lying asleep between her husband and herself. Her arm itched painfully, her Dark Mark responding to her strong positive emotions coursing through her body as she gazed upon her husband and son. **_

_"**I love you too Hermione," he said as he lazily reached across the bed to brush the hair out of her face. **_

_"**There's something I have to tell you," she said somewhat nervously, "Scorp is getting the little sister he's been asking for." She watched as his face lit up and he pounced onto her, careful not to hurt Scorpius as he stirred lightly between them. She moaned lightly into his kiss, her tongue submitting to his as her hands buried themselves in his platinum hair. **_

_"**Eww Gwoss," interrupted Scorpius suddenly as his eyes, so much like his fathers, cracked open to the sight of his parent's passionate embrace.**_

_**(*)**_

_"**Hermione, Take the kids and go!" Draco yelled as he grabbed his wand from the bedside table. **_

_"**We'll hold them off," said Narcissa from the doorway, her blonde hair falling in dishevelled waves around her determined face. **_

_**There had been no time for proper goodbyes, the hastily erected wards were already breaking as she grabbed her children and apparated to Grimmauld Place. **_

_The spell faded before her as her concentration broke, her face pale as a single tear leaked from her chocolate eyes. The memories of that last meeting were disjointed, it had happened so fast she could never attain an accurate representation of it. What she had remembered was that that was the day she had been sure that she had lost her family and she had been right. She had lost them for twelve years, but now she had been given a second chance. And Hermione Malfoy would never let the darkness tear them apart once again. _

_(*)(*)(*)_

_Cassandra couldn't help but smile fondly as she felt his arms wrap around her from behind, imagining the mischievous glint in his emerald eyes as she focused on her potion. She had been making significant headway into the elixir, the shards of crystal that Scorpius had brought back from their mothers prison had proved incredibly powerful at removing all traces at dark magic. She was confident that she would soon perfect the concoction, seeing as the energy released from the crystal prison had been sufficient to purge both of her parents' dark marks and leave them as nothing more than simple tattoos. _

_"Hey," she said softly as she added seven drops of Phoenix tears into the lilac brew. _

_"I thought you were going to bed," Albus breathed into her ear as he stood behind her, studying her latest elixir and wrinkling his nose in distaste. Potions may be his girlfriend's forte but he had inherited his father's skill (or lack thereof) when it came to what Draco termed, The Subtle Sciences. _

_"I was, but then I had this idea about using basilisk venom in the potion to counteract the phoenix ash and" she began only to be interrupted by him speaking in a high falsetto voice, "and I just had to come and try it right away." Dammit, he knew her too well. _

_"I do not sound like that," she said as she slapped his wandering hand away from the ingredients, "DO NOT touch my potion Albus Severus Potter!"_

_"Oooh, she broke out the middle name," he teased, ignoring her as he reached forward and tossed in a teaspoon of crushed unicorn horn into the simmering cauldron. _

_"ALBUS POTTER, I SWEAR TO MERLIN YOU'RE GOING TO BE SLEEPING ON THE COUCH FOR THE NE-" she broke off her tirade, which had promised to be quite entertaining for anyone who happened to be watching (especially seeing as how Albus had cowered slightly under her rage) when the potion began bubbling into a liquid gold that was reminiscent of Felix Felicis. Cassandra turned hurriedly as the gold began to pale into a pearly white, shimmering with silver sparks. _

_"You did it," she said in a hushed whisper. _

_"I did what?" he asked warily, quite afraid at her sudden mood swings. It was obvious to him that it was her time of the month and he was feeling quite apprehensive. Having grown up with her, he knew how moody and violent she tended to get when she became hormonal. Silently, he made the decision to not impregnate her in the near future. God forbid what she would do to him then._

_ "You just fixed my potion," she grinned, flinging her arms around him and standing on her tip-toes so that her nose touched his. _

_"I did?" he asked, caution again evident in his tone. The last potion he had tried to make had blown every strand of hair of his and James bodies. It had been before he had gotten together with Cassandra and he had been mortified at having to ask his best mates baby sister (who he had fancied for quite some time at that point) for a more sensitive variant of hair re-growing salve for down there._

_Shaking her head in wonder, she gave him a searing kiss. It didn't take much more than that to make Al forget his scruples and passionately return her affections, grinning lightly at the thought that he, the worst brewer in the world had succeeded in completing a potion that had eluded her for months. Still smiling at her boyfriend's idiocy when the broke apart, she aimed her wand at the cauldron and filled the potion into a set of crystal vials before allowing him to scoop her up and carry her to their room. _

_ (*)(*)(*)_

_Lucius paced his tiny tower cell, hands shaking violently as he recovered from his last session of torture at the hands of The Dark Lord. Ever since he had helped his son escape he had been a prisoner here in the former Gryffindor Tower. Following the Battle of Hogwarts, Voldemort had allowed the sorting to continue solely so that he could keep an eye on which children showed loyalty to his cause and which seemed most likely to take up arms against him. Whilst the Ravenclaw's had been granted their tower on the condition that they take over the castle's maintenance, and the Hufflepuff's had been given free reign of their cellars in exchange for them having to work in the kitchens during their free time it had been the children of red and gold who suffered the most. All who were sorted into the once proud house were banished from their ancestral tower and were given deplorable and cramped quarters on the first floor. _

_The oldest Malfoy paced again, he had never felt as isolated as he was now. In his heart he could feel that he, a Slytherin, would never belong in this tower. The Dark Lord could corrupt the Lion's Den with as much dark magic as he wished, he could tear down every piece of red and gold and deck the walls with green and silver for all the good it would do, for not even in a thousand years would the tower bend to his will. Lucius wondered if his Master felt the same isolation and insecurity that he did whenever he entered the tower, it would always be a Gryffindor place and no amount of darkness or time could change that._

_When the Dark Lord had first discovered him stupefied in Draco's former cell his wrath had been terrifying. Despite this, he had lied about the nature of his son's escape but was nevertheless punished severely for his part in the crime. Once He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had broken through his laughably weak occlumentic defences, life had seemed to have lost what little savour it had when faced with the dark punishments The Heir of Slytherin could devise. His only saving grace was that his son had been reunited with his family and he had heard the rumours himself that his daughter-in-law had been freed from her intriguing prison. At least his suffering had bought them a second chance and to Lucius that made all the difference in the world._

_ He was tired. He was exhausted by his long years of serving the Dark Lord and being forced to watch his family pay the price for his misdeeds. He hadn't been able to look Narcissa in the eye after his son had run off with the mudbl . . . the muggleborn. She had been resolutely on Draco's side and for the first time in her life she had defied him, willingly and blatantly voicing her shame that she had remained with him for all these years. It still stung that the only reason she had stayed by her side for so long was that she loved him, despite everything . . . but when the time came to choose she had chosen the happiness of her son over her loyalty to her husband. He had lost so much in his blind servitude to the mad half-blood who styled himself a Lord and had even continued serving him after believing his wife and son had died on his Masters command. _

_Lucius hadn't exchanged a word with his son since The Dark Lord brought him and his young wife back into the fold; he hadn't so much as held his own grandchildren. He had been so stupid too be blinded by his prejudice, a stereotype that had been forced into his head by own father Abraxas. Why could he not have looked passed Scorpius and Cassandra being born half-bloods? Why had he never been able to gotten over his son marrying a muggle-born? Why had he abandoned his wife and son to endure the cruciatus curse and worse when he had failed in his mission at the Department of Mysteries? _

_He had made things right as best he could by giving Draco his freedom but the phrase too little too late constantly preyed on his mind. He would never get the opportunity to tell his son how proud he was that he had managed to rise above the hardships that had been inflicted upon him. He would never get to meet his grandchildren or tell Narcissa how much she had truly meant to him. Lucius had no doubt that once the Dark Lord . . . no once Vol- Volde- Voldemort was done playing with him he would be dead. _

_But Lucius was a Malfoy by blood and by name and one thing he had learnt from his family was that they did things on their own terms. Narcissa had gone down fighting for their son. His mother had overdosed on pain potions when the dragon-pox that had claimed Abraxas first infected her. His muggleborn daughter-in-law had imprisoned herself in impenetrable crystal rather than surrender the relic she had been guarding. There was still a great degree of dignity that came with having one of the oldest and proudest names in Wizarding Britain and beneath everything; Lucius was still very much a Malfoy._

_He stepped towards the wide windows of the room and in a surprising show of power; he exhausted what little magical power he had left to shatter the wards erected over them. Vold- Voldemort had as usual underestimated the people he viewed to be beneath him when erecting them._

_ He stumbled weakly, his eyes blazing as he felt his reserves drain, his magic fuelled by his love for Narcissa as he tore through the enchantments. Steadfastly he stepped onto the ledge and with a final glance behind him, he jumped. _

_I've been waiting for you Lucius, for so long__ . . . the woman's soft, graceful voice filled the air as the ground came rushing up to meet him._

_You don't have to wait any longer Cissa . . ._

_(*)(*)(*)_

_Scorpius stumbled forward, his arm wrapped tightly around Lily as she winced onwards beside him. Her ankle had gotten worse and he was now sure that it was broken, he could tell by the swelling and torturous grinding of bones every time he examined it. Neither of them had the energy to heal the fracture as they both had been completely drained by their recent experiences in the catacombs. Physically he had the strength to go on for quite some time but mentally he was frayed to the point of breaking, he could tell that he was dangerously close to exhausting his magical reserves and becoming catatonic. If he did succumb he was secure in the knowledge that he would not share Louis' fate, his mana would slowly be restored over time but he would rather not fall into a state of unconsciousness in a dangerous pit such as the catacombs leaving Lily to fend for herself. However, despite their tribulations he was also feeling confident that the worst was behind them, the pearl was beginning to throb and pulse with a strange yet potent form of energy which they both believed indicated that the Oasis was very near. _

_Suddenly Lily froze as a loud serpentine hissing filled the tunnel, the dull sound of reptilian scales over stone accentuating the bone-numbing chills that ran down her spine. Like all the children of Harry Potter she had inherited her father's parseltongue abilities, a trait that had served her well during her fight with Nagini. But the serpent that prowled behind them was something darker and more powerful than The Dark Lords familiar, an ancient beast whose gaze was death and whose venom had but one cure. _

_"Hunger . . . so long . . . Guard the . . .Oasis," the malign hissing resounded across her ears as she turned fearfully to her blonde lover. _

_"Run," she said urgently, gritting her teeth as she took off while leaning on him as best she could to take the weight of her shattered ankle. She knew what was behind them and they didn't have the strength to fight it. Her parents, two of the most powerful fighters in the Order time had nearly died fighting one of these formidable beasts when they destroyed one of the horcruxes. And from what she could hear, from the harsh language that emanated behind her, she knew that this was not a youngling such as the one her father had slain in the Chamber of Secrets. This Serpent was old, much older than the millennium old Basilisk that had once resided within Hogwarts. _

_There, right before them was a marble arch carved with ancient runes and glimmering with the ancient magic that Scorpius had only felt once before, when he had stood immobilised before his mother's crystal prison. But its power was coupled with something more, vestiges of the same wild energy he had felt when trying to assist Dominique in her brawl with Lucian Grey, the natural energy that had filled the circle of bloody stones at Moonhollow. Through the arch he could barely discern a vast underground grove, unnatural sunlight sparkling over a sapphire blue lake. The Oasis, he thought, they were almost there. _

_They were metres away from the arch when the basilisk struck; lithely he shoved Lily aside and rolled to the left so the serpent's jaws snapped closed over thin air. Twisting around, he morphed into his wolf form and snarled at the serpent, hackles raised as he made sure not to catch its fatal gaze. It lunged again, its snout slamming into the ground where he had just stood as he pounced onto the serpents back and dug his claws into its mossy green scales, drawing slender furrows across its cold skin. Before he knew what was happening he found himself being flung through the air, his snowy body crashing into the stony wall with a resounding crack as the basilisk threw him off._

_Lily was on her feet by then, shakily putting her weight on her uninjured leg before she leapt forward onto the basilisk's head. She held on tightly as it bucked its diamond shaped head furiously trying to shake her off, before bringing her knife down into one of the piercing amber eyes. Releasing a shrill shriek of pain it redoubled its effort to throw her off, pausing only when she took out its other eye. There was a shrill scream as finally lost her grip and she went tumbling through the air, striking the ground with a harsh thud and lying there unmoving. _

_The basilisk was writhing violently as Scorpius now in his human form, staggered forwards and stepped protectively in front of her prone body. Desperately, he fired a stinging hex from his palm into the beasts bleeding eye sockets, ignoring the sharp pull in his navel as his body reminded him how drained he was. He could feel a warm wetness on his lips, his nose was bleeding, blood vessels were bursting in his brain from the magical overhaul as he fired of a savage string of hexes into the wounded eye sockets. He was running on fumes and he knew it, his final curse striking the jagged rocks on the ceiling and sending them crashing over the basilisk. He dropped to his knees in exhaustion, noting with a grim satisfaction that two stalactites had pierced the creature's body, fatally pinning it to the ground. Ignoring its tortured keening he turned his attention to Lily._

_"Scorpius," she murmured from the ground. _

_"Yes Lily?" _

_"Is the offer to carry me still open?" she asked pleadingly, and he noticed her left leg lay at unnatural angle, two broken ribs sticking through her skin, stabbing her from within._

_"You don't even need to ask," he said softly, gently scooping her into his protesting arms; ignoring the dizziness, the blood flowing freely from his nose and ears. His own ribs screamed in pain as he took on her weight, his lower back throbbed painfully, his kidneys painfully bruised. Nevertheless he carried her as he made his way towards the Arch; it was his turn to be strong for her._

_(*)(*)(*)_

_Draco gazed solemnly across the softly cascading waves outside Shell Cottage, poignantly relieved that he had been able to escape the stiflingly atmosphere of the home. He had only accompanied Harry to the Weasley's coastal safe-house to lend them his significant knowledge in the dark arts to heal one Bill Weasley. Having inspected the eldest wounds of the eldest Weasley of his generation he had found himself decidedly impressed that the Frenchwoman, Fleur, had been able heal such a grievous injury in the first place. _

_Despite her formidable grasp of magical healing Fleur had been unable to restore the damage that had been done to her husband's spinal cord for the blade that had wounded him had been imbued with powerful dark magic and it was common knowledge that wounds caused by dark magic were often impossible to heal. A common example would George Weasley, who despite his mother healing his wound had been unable to restore his amputated ear. It was the same for Bill; Fleur had healed his wounds but had been unable to re-grow the neurons in his spine. In an act of surprising benevolence Draco had offered his services and had recognized that the damage could be healed by a powerful dark enchantment that he had learned from his mad aunt during his seventh year at Hogwarts. Bill however had stubbornly refused to allow himself to be subjugated to dark magic, something Draco could scarce blame him for, and the older man had been subsequently lost the use of his legs much to his wife and daughters horror. _

_Desperate to escape the sombre mood he had fled the cottage and deigned to lose himself in the whimsical crashing of white horses over the blue-green waters of the sea. It truly was a beautiful place, he hoped that he would soon have the opportunity to bring Hermione to this scenic setting; she had always loved the seaside. _

_"Draco," said a tense voice behind him, breaking him from his memories of taking baby Scorpius to the beach for the first time. Turning he saw a young man whose hair was an alarming shade of turquoise approaching him from the direction of the cottage, he had seen him before at the Order meetings but had never gotten the opportunity to speak to him alone. Edward Remus Lupin, his second cousin and a grandson to his estranged Aunt Andromeda. _

_"Edward," he said formally, he had heard several people him refer to him as Teddy but he was unsure about seeming to familiar with his methamorphmagus relative, uncertain as to whether the man bore him any grudges for the sins of Bellatrix. The boy would not have been the first to lay her sins at his feet. _

_"Merlin! Never call me that again," said Lupin with a wry smirk, "its Teddy."There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence before Teddy spoke again. _

_"I was actually hoping to ask you for a favour."_

_"That depends on the favour," said Draco cautiously, glad that he was getting the chance to connect with his cousin. _

_"Well I'm getting married soon and I'm a Black by descent," he ran a hand through his hair nervously as comprehension dawned on Draco's face. _

_"The Curabitur in Tellus," said Draco in an understanding voice, he was familiar with the family practice, a bonding ritual invoked on a couple's wedding day to intertwine their magic for life. He knew that it forged an extremely powerful bond between the couple so that they could share their thoughts and mana with each other among other things. One particular power of the bond was that if either partner was in danger then the other would be able to sense their plight and find them, no matter where they were. To his knowledge, the last couple so bonded had been Cygnus and Druella Black. _

_"Why ask me?" continued Draco as his younger cousin shifted uncomfortably under his stormy gaze, the ritual could only be conducted by an elder member of the bloodline, "Why not ask your grandmother?"_

_"Well, Gran was disowned wasn't she, she can't bond us because the family tree doesn't recognize her," his hair dulled to a mousy brown as he perceived Draco's rejection. _

_"Still why me? I'm honoured and all but surely you're closer to Harry, he has Black blood."_

_"You're family," shrugged Teddy and as if to prove his point, his hair burned a bright platinum blonde. _

_(*)(*)(*)_

_Bellatrix let out a piercing shriek of fury as she slammed her fist through the glass, sending crystalline shards raining onto the ground three stories below. Already her room was a disaster zone, she had broken the furniture into splintery chunks which littered the torn carpet and she shredded the wallpaper so that it hung in eerie tatters from the stone walls. But it had not been enough to placate her and now the elegant windows were facing the brunt of her wrath. She longed to expunge her rage in her usual manner, torturing the prisoners who languished in the dungeons below the manor but her master had expressly forbidden her from playing with his new toys. She had sulked readily at his proclamation but nevertheless she had relented in her inane desire to cruciate the lot of them to insanity, she would never disobey her Lord. _

_The focal point of her rage was the Weasels, those pathetic blood traitors who had killed not one but two of her most favoured handmaidens. Parkinson and Nott had both fallen at the hands of those despicable pieces of filth and her only consolation was that Nott had managed to take her foe down with her. It wasn't much of a prize though, the woman had been a half-blood daughter-in-law of the family and therefore not worth the life of her handmaiden. What Bellatrix truly craved from the family of blood-tratiors was the death of the daughter of that insufferable bitch who had bested her at the Battle of Hogwarts. _

_She had recently heard rumours that the werewolf Altair le Oscurita had taken a mate. The fleeting pang of regret concerning the loss of her son had quickly been cast aside when he realised that he had taken a descendant of that woman as his consort. It was a galling thought that she may have to be related to such a deplorable family by marriage, one that made her regret ever giving birth to the mutt. She should have killed the brat when she had the chance but no, she just had to go and develop feelings for the little twit when he had first been pressed into her arms, squirming and gurgling. It was why she had let him escape when he was seven, she had been secretly (if only minutely) pleased that her child would be free of her growing madness. She had dealt with his preening, lying father herself and had purposefully kept the truth of his blood status from her Master. It was the only time she had ever rebelled against her Lord and she had punished herself most grievously for her lapse in judgement. But he was her son and for six years she had believed him to be as pure as she was, so when she discovered he was a half-blood she couldn't help but look at him in a new light, viewing him as a stain upon her honour. For Bellatrix, ignorance had indeed been bliss and she often wondered if she had purposefully pushed the boy away to spare him future pain and suffering. She was well aware that the darkness had become heavily ingrained into her being and there were times when she had no control over her actions, whilst she revelled in maintaining the purity of her family line and in the genocide of all things muggle, she had never consciously tried to hurt Altair. She had gone so far as to lie to The Dark Lord for him and this was how the mutt repaid her? _

_Obviously her family tree would need to be trimmed more prudently in the future. There was no place for sentimentality in this world and it was painfully obvious that her son would have to die. Better dead than in the arms of a blood traitor. _

_Andromeda was the same, she and her hybrid grandson were not going to survive this war, she would make certain of it. It had surprised her to learn that the freak had survived her curse, she had slashed his back and blighted the wound with a lethal combination of venom; a mixture of manticore, gorgon and kraken. No man should have been able to survive such a potent toxin. _

_But the answer to his survival was so painfully obvious, the half-blood granddaughter of her treacherous baby sister 'Cissa. Even in the dark side they had learned of the sheer brilliance possessed by Cassandra Malfoy. Bellatrix eagerly awaited the day she would be able to slaughter the little bitch and her equally disappointing brother. _

_Scorpius had shown so much promise when he had been a toddler, she had never seen a child wield such potent experimental magic and yet maintain such a vast degree of control. It had exploded from his tiny body whenever she had the mudblood under her cruciatus and she had had great hopes of moulding him to be her successor as her Lords right hand lieutenant. But of course he had grown as weak as his blood traitor father. But it wasn't really Draco's fault that he had lost his way, he had been the perfect death eater in his youth. Cissy's boy had broken them into Hogwarts for Merlins sake, he had been on the brink of entering her Lords inner circle when that mudblood came along and Draco betrayed them all for a pair of tits and a tight fit. _

_That was it, Bellatrix realised as she waved her wand across the room to repair the formidable damage. The problem was the mudblood. She was the filthy bitch who had turned her family from the path of purity. Bellatrix laughed; a harsh cackling sound which send miniscule cracks lacing across the newly repaired glass as she made her decision. They would all die; her mutt of a son, 'Dromeda and her freakish hybrid grandson, her blood traitor nephew and his half-blood children, but first and foremost she was going to go after that fucking mudblood whore._

_(*)(*)(*)_

_A/N : I hope you people enjoy the significance of this chapter's title. It's a minor play on the members of the House of Black who feature heavily in this chapter. And this chapter gives a unique insight into Bellatrix, something which only happens twice in this entire story. You guys really didn't think I'd kill of Bill Weasley now did you, I mean I know I'm being a G.R.R Martin and whacking off characters left right and centre but I'm not that cruel. _

_Please review. I don't mean to sound needy but I've noticed fewer reviews coming in on the later chapters, if you find there is a problem with the direction this story is going don't hesitate to critique. I'm not a genius and I need constructive criticism to better myself. Also I'm sorry this entire chapter is bold, I'm trying to fix it but no matter what I do it publishes all bold._


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen :Updated **

**The Angel She Loved**

**A/N: Once again another apology for the last chapter having its font all screwy. I got a few bugs on my laptop and I'm hoping it doesn't affect this one as well.**

"What have I done," she whispered as her eyes cracked open the next morning and the events of last night came hurtling to the forefront of her mind. Grief and passion, an unusual combination, both were flooding her body as she contemplated the events that had led her here. It had felt so right at the time, an impulse that needed to be sated. She had been grieving, mourning the loss of two family members and he had been there for her. What had she done?

She could feel his breath against the back of her head, his strong arms spooning her closely against his bare chest, his leg hooked over hers, her every sensation heightened by the proximity of their naked bodies. It hadn't been her first time yet she still felt a dull ache from his inexperienced thrusts, the subtle sting of love bites along her shoulders and the ghostlike whisper of his sleeping fingers against her navel, _Morgana have mercy, what had she done!_

The mind numbing waves of guilt and sorrow slammed into her like a punch in the gut as his lips nuzzled against her raven waves. Her Aunt Astoria was dead, Alyssa was dead, she had failed in her duty and it was so despicably obvious at whose feet the blame lay. It was all her fault, she had been weak, so very weak that she had fallen in love with her greatest enemy and forsaken her own flesh and blood. If her loyalty had not been so divided then perhaps her family with still be alive. But on the other hand, had she succeeded in warning them, James would have lost more than his aunt. He would have lost his grandmother as well and then the pain and loss that she was feeling would be his cross to bear.

Last night she had been an emotional wreck, the news of their deaths clawing at her and sending crescendos of heartache through her body. James had found her crying into her pillow and had taken her into his arms, naively promising her that everything would be ok, whispering words of comfort into her ear as she sobbed into his shoulder.

As if he could truly promise her that? He had understood her need to grieve for what was arguably one of his most formidable foes, he had understood her tears and he had assured her, no he had promised her that he would keep her safe. But nobody would ever be able to keep her safe if her duplicity was ever discovered; both sides would be baying for her blood. She held no illusions about her parents reaction to her affair, Blaise Zabini had made it perfectly clear to her what her fate would entail should she ever betray them as her brother had.

Delphin Zabini had left the country two years ago after refusing to take the Dark Mark because he had fallen in love with a muggle woman who had been held in the Malfoy dungeons. Their mother's response had been swift . . . and deadly. People always saw Blaise as the danger behind the Zabini household but what they didn't realise was that whilst it was he who held higher standing and greater notoriety, it was Daphne who wielded the real power in their family. Delphin and Hope had fled Daphne's wrath and were now living in a secluded Canadian village where the war had not yet reached them, both still carrying the scars of Daphne's formidable curses. She had always admired her brother's courage, often wishing she had even a shred of his bravery. But then again he had been sorted into Ravenclaw, much to their parent's dismay, she was nothing more than a Slytherin and courage and nobility were nought but abstract concepts to her.

Loving James would mean her life was forfeit . . . and was she really such a masochist that she would die for him? Her Slytherin sense of self-preservation did not want to contemplate that thought, the answer made her feel uncomfortable due to the terrifying implications it held. But at the same time, her life would not be the only one at risk; her parents with go after James with everything they had if they discovered with who it was that her heart lay. And if years living in the Zabini Manor had thought her anything, it was that though she loved her parents unconditionally, she should never forget what they were capable of when provoked. She knew full well what her father had done to earn his high standing in the dark hierarchy and she also knew exactly how cold and bloodthirsty her mother could be.

It was that thought that finally allowed her to make her decision; she couldn't remain in a position where she put James at risk. She could stay with him, she could fight beside him in the coming battles but what would she accomplish? Her presence at his side with just paint a larger target on his back and at the same time, could she really fight for people who so casually slew her beloved is misguided family members in cold blood? She contemplated this carefully, she had seen the glee in Luna Scamander's eyes as she regaled the family with the news of the Nott's downfall and had not seemed to pity them in the slightest, even though one of her victims had been born into the dark side and was incapable of hurting a fly. True, Alyssa boasted a big game but everyone knew that she was all bark and no bite, the girl was incapable of mustering the darkness to kill a spider for crying out loud. So could she really choose to fight for the man she loved when his side so casually rained death on her family?

The Zabini words echoed through her head as she stood, _Di Sangue Oltre di Amore_, Blood before Love. It had been what had prompted her grandmother Isabella into taking seven husbands, never allowing herself to love anyone except her son as she accumulated a vast fortune to raise him in comfort.

She felt the chills running up and down her spine as she carefully extricated herself from his embrace, guilt pouring from her every pore as she left him, struggling not to notice how adorably innocent he looked whilst he slept. She dressed quickly, taking time only to scrawl a brief explanatory letter which she tucked into his desk drawer before heading to the front door that was her escape route. The note was hidden for a reason; she didn't want him to come after her. She fought for her family as did he, but their families were on opposing sides in this war. _In another life perhaps we could have been happy,_ she sighed as she stepped into the street.

She should never have gotten so close, never have allowed him to capture her heart but most importantly; she should have never allowed him to fall for her. She could deal with her own heartbreak, it was the thought of the pain that she would cause him that chilled her. Even now, as she stood in the cool night air she could hear his whispered words in her ear; feel his fingers caressing her spine, the soft touch of his lips on hers. _"_I love you," he had said, "I love you so much." _I don't deserve his love._

Her heart felt leaden as her wand flourished through the air, conjuring her dark patronus and sending a message to her father that her position had been compromised and she was returning home.

Her breath hitched as the sable smoke formed an unfamiliar silhouette, the red-eyed lioness prowling around her as it took in her muttered words, its jet skin making it invisible in the shadowy darkness of the street. Dipping its head in a gesture of disdainful acknowledgment at her as she finished speaking, she sent it hunting into the night sky as her brain made the connection. _A Lioness_. Her patronus matched his.

She couldn't help but glance back at the safe-house behind her, secure in the knowledge that as soon as she left the boundaries of its protective enchantments the houses location would be wiped from her mind and she would not be able to betray her lover's position to the Dark Lord. She paled at the sight; he was standing at his bedroom window, his chest bare as he stared down at her in disbelief. For a split second she caught his gaze before turning away and starting to walk, forcing herself to ignore the look of betrayal in his hazel eyes and the shattering of her own heart.

(*)(*)(*)

Louis forced a smile to his lips as he walked into the kitchen, fighting the dull ache in his temple that always accompanied his newfound activities. His mother was standing before him, her tired face drawn and pale as she tended to his father's supper. Since his dad had been paralysed, he had begun noticing how much pressure his mother actually was under. There had still been no word from Dominique and Altair on their mission to Russia, not so much as a patronus message had reached the Order since the pair had left a fortnight prior to today. Victoire's pregnancy was becoming difficult as she was now in her sixth month, Teddy's lycanthropic curse having begun to act upon the child and his sister was under a great deal of physical strain, especially under the full moon. His eldest sister often found herself bedridden for days due to the rare genetic combination of her unborn son, the magical traits of a metamorphmagus, a werewolf and a veela were causing her significant difficulties as the child grew. The latest accident had been a broken rib, caused by the baby's excessively powerful kicks. Skele-grow was not an option, it was not safe for pregnant woman and his sister had been forced into letting it heal the muggle way. The emotional strain was taxing as well, it was no secret that there was a very high rate of lupine miscarriages in the Wizarding World, miscarriages which always proved fatal to the mother. Teddy himself was a miracle, although born two months premature both he and his mother had survived.

And caught between it all was Fleur, crumbling under the weight of having to worry for both her daughters and unborn grandchild, having to care for her paralysed husband and of course, deal with her battered and frayed relationship with her son.

Throughout it all she had not complained but Louis only had to glance at his mother to notice the dark circles under her eyes and her emaciated figure and realise how much strain she was under. Looking back, he realised that she hadn't been eating well since his own accident, that she had been throwing everything she had and more into caring for her family whilst he shunned her at every turn. It made him nauseous and ashamed, which was what had led him to the kitchen this morning. Whilst he may not be ready to forgive his mother for her actions, time had led him to understand that she had acted in his best interests and even though he could not yet bring himself to accept her apology, he could certainly try to lighten her burden.

"Get some sleep," he said without any inflection in his voice, moulding his features into an expression he hoped conveyed his compassion, "I'll handle dad's dinner."

Fleur looked at him, surprise and gratefulness etched across her features. In the weeks since he had lost his mana, Louis had not uttered a word to her save to spit out an insult or a cynical jibe.

"I'm fine Louis," she finally said tiredly, flipping the steak to prevent it cooking fully on one side. Bill's wolfish tendencies had become surprisingly strong since his attack, something Cassandra claimed to be his inner wolf's natural defence to becoming an invalid.

"No, you're not fine," he said, taking the spatula from her hand and turning to the stove, "Go to bed before I carry you there."

Fleur consented quietly at the determined look on her son's boyish face, pausing only as she reached the door, "Thank you Louis," she said softly.

"You don't need to thank me," he said in a strained voice, knowing all the pain he had put her through in the past few weeks, "It's a son's job to help their mum when she needs it."

Fleur walked to her bedroom quietly, her heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks.

(*)(*)(*)

He stepped forward lightly, discarding his clothing as he stepped into the still waters of the lake, revelling in the soothing sensation of the magical waters against his bare skin. She stood before him, the sapphire blue ripples swirling away from her own body in delicate spirals, dancing and playful under the enchanted sun that always filled the Oasis.

He had panicked when he first awoke to find her not cuddled against him in the grove they had taken as their campsite, rushing around in a needless frenzy till he noticed her ruby locks splayed across the lake. The first thought upon seeing her, was of how beautiful she truly was, how every droplet clung to her bare skin and how in that moment she looked a fiery Goddess of the Sea come amongst mortals.

When they first entered this sacred place, their wounds were dire, both lovers broken and near death by the perils of the Catacombs. However one sip of the restorative waters had been enough to heal them, to mend their broken bones and sew their torn flesh and to restore their magical reserves as if they had never been depleted in the first place, and while they lived beneath the stony, jewel strewn ceiling of the Oasis none of their spells seemed to drain them, indeed their magic seemed stronger than ever before. Scorpius wasn't sure how long they had been here, healing and recuperating, but to him it felt as though months had passed since their battle with the Basilisk. And every day they spent here seemed to enforce the desire to never leave, to forget the war raging through the world above and remain here in this sanctuary, to exist in a constant state of bliss and serenity.

The trees were always brimming with delicious fruits, so ripe and juicy that they seemed to explode in your mouth. There was game in abundance, wild deer and rabbits, living in strange harmony and never seeming to decline in numbers. Fragrant herbs grew in handfuls around the meadows; their wands had been restored to full power and they were safe from anything that wished them harm. Why would they ever wish to leave?

"You scared me," he said as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, smiling into her wet hair.

"I'm sorry," Lily said quietly, melting into his embrace, "Do you ever feel that we should stay here forever?"

"Every day," said Scorpius softly as she turned, her emerald eyes gazing into his stormy orbs, "But we can't."

"I know," she said, her voiced laced with sadness, her fingers trailing fiery lines down his body, before brushing her lips against his and losing herself in the man she loved.

When they were both spent they stepped lightly from the water and lay on the shores side by side, exchanging delicate touches and soft kisses as they grinned languidly at one another. Scorpius suddenly seemed more alert and moved closer to her. Carefully he reached for her locks and a silent severing charm later, he held in his hands three stands of her gossamer ruby fire. Responding to her questioning look he plucked a few strands of his own, holding them in his palm as he began channelling his magic into the hairs. He had realized it in the catacombs when he had come so close to losing her, she was his as he was hers, and young as they both may be, he wanted her to be his in every sense of the word.

Magic swirled as the platinum strands twisted and grew into a slender band of white gold, delicately traced with vines and leaves as her own hair shifted, forming a circle of rubies around a slight indent on the forefront of the ring. Focusing on the eyes that had always captivated him, he began to craft an emerald from thin air, drawing a single droplet of the lake water into the stone so that the gem would form around it. With a triumphant smirk, he attached the iridescent emerald to the ring, mounting it within the ruby circle.

"Marry me?" he asked, his free hand on her waist as he offered her the newly forged ring. She gazed at it in awe, her eyes filled with joyful tears at as she leaned in and kissed him, hoping in that kiss that she had conveyed everything she felt and had ever felt to him.

"Yes Scorpius," she said when she finally pulled away, "I love you . . . and for the record my wedding ring better not be handmade."

(*)(*)(*)

Cassandra stepped into the living room of Weasley Manor looking extremely frazzled, her usually perfect ringlets appearing extremely dishevelled as she lugged her potions kit behind her. Hurriedly, Fred went to assist her, winking at her grateful smile as he effortlessly slung the heavy bag over his shoulders. It was days like this that she appreciated Albus coming from such a chivalrous family line because even on the days when he couldn't be there to help her, one of his numerous male relatives would be. Albus was tending to James back at Grimmauld Place, which to Cass' knowledge meant he was making sure that his brother didn't drink too much. Not that she had very high hopes considering her boyfriends love of all things alcoholic, needless to say she fully expected to have to brew two very potent sobering solutions as soon as she got home.

She had never seen James so lifeless and dead in the eyes as she had that morning when they found him staring out his bedroom window and nursing a glass of Uncle Harry's muggle scotch. He had glanced their way listlessly when they entered, nodded as if to say _you told me so_ and went back to staring out into the street. She hadn't needed anything more from James to confirm her suspicions, Zabini had gone . . . she had come, done whatever it was she had come to do and then she had left, screwing James over in the process. It had taken everything from her parents and Uncle Harry to keep herself, Albus and Aunt Ginny from storming Zabini Manor there and then.

Instead she had taken a deep breath, downed a glass of the scotch on James' desk to compose herself (much to Albus' bewilderment, he really had no clue that Lily and her had been breaking into Uncle Harry's liquor cabinet since they were thirteen) and had floo'd to Weasley Manor at George Weasleys behest to examine the family matriarch and to prescribe whatever necessary potions would be needed to help the ailing woman.

She hadn't liked what she had seen, Molly had been hysterical the entire morning and she had been forced to stun the older woman to stop her hurting herself.

"How is she?" asked Arthur worriedly from his seat near the fire, wringing his hands as he contemplated the worst possible scenarios.

"Physically she's fine," Cass replied, "But mentally she's broken, she kept looking at me and asking for forgiveness. She kept calling me . . ." she shot a furtive look at George, "she kept calling me Angelina."

George slumped backwards into his chair, a grief-stricken resigned look in his mind. Up till now he had been hoping his mothers malady was caused by a dark spell of some sort, he had never wanted to contemplate that his mother was indeed losing her mind.

"Are there any potions to help her?" Lysander asked from his seat beside Roxanne, it was always surprising to Cass how the pain of loss could draw people together in such surprising ways. Roxy, who had dated Lorcan since she was fourteen, had now found solace in the arms of his twin brother. It was a strange dynamic but there was no denying that they both looked happier than they had in weeks.

"Her . . . illness is rooted in her mind. I can treat the symptoms as they crop up, give her elixirs that keep her from hurting herself and to calm her emotions but there are no real cures for . . . insanity. I can't get rid of her hallucinations . . . she's too far gone," Cassandra said sadly. Narcissa had died when she was three, too young for her to have many memories of a real grandmother but Molly had steadfastly worked to fill that gap in both her and her brother's lives. It hurt her deeply to look at these people around her, this family that had taken her in without a second thought and to see all the pain they were enduring.

Then and there she made a promise to herself, to do all in her power to end this god-forsaken war and keep her family safe.

(*)(*)(*)

Louis looked over his shoulder as he entered his bedroom, quickly shutting and locking the door behind him, internally thankful that he had enchanted the sealing rune years ago. Unlike the other runic symbols painted across his pale blue walls, the rune upon his door was active and prevented people from entering without his authority.

Pinching the bridge of his nose at the dull throbbing in his head, he drew out a large square of black fabric from beneath his bed and spread it across the floor. Already half of the fabric was covered in silvery runes, complicated symbols forming a semi-circle as they banded together into an ancient combination. It was a personal project, experimentation with ancient runes to create what he hoped to be the most powerful rune circle in existence.

Louis found a quill and dipped it into the half empty phial, filling the feather with the slick white fluid he had nicked from Cassandra's potion bag when she had dropped off this month's wolfsbane potions for Teddy and his dad, not to mention his unborn lupine nephew. The elixir, recently and specially developed to combat dark magic was a potent tool in his area of expertise, especially considering he could no longer use his magic to create his runes. To be honest, he still nursed a spark of magical energy within himself, the tiniest spark of energy in what was practically a muggle body. However, the elixir wasn't enough to empower a rune and Louis had found himself constantly drawing not on his mana, but his own life-force to create his symbol.

It was dangerous work, where one misstep, a line drawn one centimetre longer than should with mean instant death for him and everyone in the house. On the same note, his health was deteriorating steadily as well, just last night he had violently begun coughing up blood whilst brushing his teeth and he had been suffering with severe migraines ever since he had begun creating the symbol. Life energy was not something you messed with, even Hermione who had delved into the most ancient of spells knew enough to stay away from drawing on one's own essence. Because unlike your mana which would replenish itself if exhausted, your life energy cannot replenish itself in the same way, if he gave too much of himself into the runes then he would pay with his life's blood.

Closing his eyes he focused on his irregular heartbeat and channelled his energy to his fingertips, pouring it into his quill. Once he had a steady flow going, he opened his eyes and ignoring the tugging sensation in his gut, he began to delicately trace the third quarter of the fabric.

(*)(*)(*)

"Are you ready?" Scorpius asked determinedly, staring down at the natural plinth before him. They were standing on a tiny island, situated in the middle of the lake, upon which stood a single wooden pedestal, rising from the ground. Twisted and gnarled it stood, an ancient lichen covered bough that had sprouted when the Oasis was first created, the mossy wood curling into a hollow indent, obviously the resting place of the Pearl.

"We can't stay here forever," Lily shrugged nonchalantly, even though every fibre of her being screamed for her to stay, to remain in this beauteous haven that could never be touched by darkness. Her engagement ring glimmered as she took his hand in hers, her free hand disappearing into her pocket to make sure the crystal vials were secure. Three vials she had filled from the lake, three swirling glass containers of the unique waters which held unimaginable healing properties. Three vials, two of which she already had realised a use for, the third being in the event of an emergency.

Nodding at her resolution, Scorpius slid the pearl into the indentation and it fitted in with a sharp click and before either of them could brace themselves, its magic exploded forcefully around them nearly knocking them off their feet. The waters roses in torrential waves and sent turbulent spray against the very ceiling of the cavern, ripping around their island and forming liquid walls on every side, the pearl glowing brighter with every second that passed till they both were forced to avert their eyes. It burned like an oceanic sun, blinding and powerful as a thunderous rumbling began filling the Oasis and with a dawning horror Scorpius realised that the Catacombs were collapsing, millennia of labyrinthine tunnels crashing down under the powers they had unleashed. It was strange, other people had entered the catacombs before them and it had obviously not been destroyed. Then he realised what was happening, they were trying to leave with vials of its waters and the Old Powers were determined not to let them go.

The waters surrounding them split as a coral staircase rose from the water disappearing into the stone ceiling which had already begun to sunder, creating a vertical tunnel straight into the Forbidden Forest. Without thinking Lily yanked on her fiancés hand and begun rushing up the stairs, not a moment too soon as powerful tentacles began whipping through the cresting waves, smashing apart the island they had just vacated. The waters were rising and falling filling with beasts so old time itself may have forgotten them, the Pearls arcane energy awakening them from their slumber. The red-head bit back a shriek as she dropped to her knees, an ancestral Basilisk shooting out of the watery wall over her head and falling to the island with a mighty thump. She was on her feet again in seconds as they rushed up, Scorpius sparing a momentary glance at the serpent being torn to shreds by the tentacles. _Holy Shit, _he thought, _These things were sleeping in the same lake we've been shagging in._

The tentacles slapped against the spiralling staircase, tearing out huge chunks of the coral beneath them as they ran desperately. _A Kraken_, he realised as he caught sight of the beast itself, demonic face and an octopus-like body, gargantuan and deadly as it send its spiralling tentacles hurtling once more against the coral stairs. A deep rumbling filled the air as the beast paused, two water dragons flitting across the room and spitting sapphire blue flames against their ancient foe. An ear splitting screech signalled the death of the first dragon and a second later the staircase was breaking, sending them both falling to the vicious tentacles below. As if in slow motion Scorpius slashed his wand in mid-fall, screaming as blood soaked wings ripped themselves out through his back directly over his shoulder blades. Human transfiguration and the dark arts merged together as he caught Lily under her arms, his powerful conjured wings beating like those of a fallen angel as he soared towards the sky.

(*)(*)(*)

"It hurts Al," slurred James softly as he pushed away his drained glass. Albus sighed as he shook his head; his brother had been like this for hours, slowly descending into a pit of deplorable self-depreciation. He had never seen his brother like this and he hoped that his patronus reached Teddy soon. Teddy was their big brother; he always knew what to do to make them feel better while he, Albus, was the second youngest brother being as he was just a few months older that Scor. While he in no way minded having to take care of James in his time of need, he also readily admitted to having no clue on how best to help his big brother. It wasn't something that younger siblings were accustomed too, it was usually their job to run to their protective older siblings for comfort and advice. In the rare circumstances when the roles were reversed, Albus often found he had no clue on how best to help his big brother.

Nevertheless he had tried to help in his own way and had already dealt with angry James, sad James, drunken James, betrayed James and was now having to tend to his least favourite version: depressed, despondent James . . . who seemed eerily similar to an emotionally unstable Scorpius. He had already tried the same protective brotherly tactics he had used when the blonde boy had needed their help against Ron's abuse but when he tried it on James, the older boy had immediately taken offence to his "mollycoddling" and had drunkenly yelled at him till he was poured another drink.

"I know Jay," Albus said warily, anxious to not set his brother off again as he carefully slung an arm over the older boys shoulders. Thankfully this time James didn't shake him off, instead seeming to shrink into the shorter boy's one armed hug.

"She used me," he said dully, finally confronting the issue that had put him into this state, "She fucking used me."

"At least she didn't get you into bed mate," Albus said, his elfish features suddenly scrunching in disbelief as James tensed and drew in a sharp breath.

"Merlin Jay, I'm sorry mate," Al said hurriedly, while he had teased his brother mercilessly for being a virgin longer than all his siblings, both blood and surrogate, he knew that James had always claimed to be waiting for somebody he loved. Albus could respect that, he had had ample opportunity growing up to be with other young witches in the Order himself but had steadfastly waited for Cassandra (His original plan had been to win her affections once the war was finished, hopefully after saving Scorpius' life in a dramatic fashion which with cause the younger boy to shower them both with his blessings and not transfigure him into a toad). Hatred for Syrena flared in his chest like a savage beast waiting to be set free, shrieking for vengeance against the witch that had taken his brother's love and manipulated it to serve her own purposes.

"Aint your fault Al," mumbled James, "I was bloody stupid to fall for a Zabini."

"We can't help who we fall in love with Jay," said Teddy, not unkindly, as he walked into the room, his hair as dark and dishevelled as his surrogate brothers, reflecting his dark mood and sense of solidarity. There had always been a unique relationship between the two oldest boys, a dynamic which had sometimes made Albus envious that he didn't share the same bond with James. It wasn't that James loved Teddy more than he did Albus; it was more that they had both been alive during the worst days of the war and had had to rely on each other when their parents went to battle. James had been two when his parents fought at the Battle of Hogwarts, Teddy had been three and they had both been left with Andromeda whilst the deciding battle of the war was being fought. Afterwards, when neither of the metamorphmagus' parents had returned to Grimmauld Place it had been toddler James who had comforted Teddy the most, often falling asleep beside his godbrother and staving off the older boy's nightmares. Such a kinship had only been strengthened with the passage of time.

"You heard then?" James said softly, he hadn't expected word to travel so quickly.

"Nobody outside this house knows if that's what you're worried about," said Teddy as he sat beside the younger boy, sliding an arm over his shoulder so that James was caught between him and Albus, "I only found out because Al sent a patronus." Albus had the decency to look guilty when James shot him a dull glare.

They sat like that for a long time in companionable silence whilst James drank his way through a third bottle of muggle alcohol, both knowing not to speak unless James said anything first, but the middle brother only stopped drinking when he grew too dizzy to keep his head up.

"Right then kiddo," said Teddy finally, "Time for bed." He effortlessly scooped a feebly protesting James over his shoulder and carried over to his bed, a slight grin on his face at Albus' incredulous look at how easily he could heft James around. "Half werewolf," he said as an explanation. Al just shook his head remembering the times Teddy had been able to somehow pin down James, Scorpius and himself at the same time during a good natured wrestling match and extricated a pale lavender potion from his pocket before tipping it into James' mouth. "Anti-hangover potion with a dash of Dreamless Sleep," he shrugged at Teddy's quizzical look, "He'll be grateful in the morning."

"I'm grateful now," said James in a small voice.

"For?" asked Teddy.

"For you both being here," he said, the potion taking effect and sending him to sleep before either boy could respond.

"Teddy," said Albus darkly once James was safely asleep and couldn't hear him, "When the time comes, I'm going to kill that slag."

"Get in line Albus," said Teddy, remembering the broken look in James' eyes, the same James who had offered Teddy his cuddly stuffed lion when he had been three and having trouble sleeping because of his parents. "You'll get your turn once I'm done with her."

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: Hope this chapter was good, I apologise for any typographical errors in writing. I'm under a lot of stress, my final exams begin next week and it's taking a lot out of me. Updates are going to be relatively slow for the next month and a half, but I hope you can all bare with me. I'll update mainly on the weekends now and hopefully you guys won't storm my house with torches and pitchforks for keeping you all waiting.

Response to Reviews: In the case of Hermione's crystal prison, Voldemort was not the one who imprisoned her. She did it to herself to keep the soul container out of his grasp. The container was not a crucial point of this story, it was mainly added as the reasoning for why the Dark Lord didn't just discard the crystal and why she chose to freeze herself in time rather than go down fighting.

In regards to why I ship Dramione, it's mainly because I'm a sucker for a good girl falls for the bad boy and saves him story arc. I always hoped that JK would include this particular love triangle into her books but alas, she carted my leading lady into Ronald's arms. Even though Ron/Hermione is canon I dislike it because I do not like Ron as a character, he's too quick to turn on his friends for petty reasons. For instance he abandoned Harry in fourth year just because he was jealous, and he turned on Hermione in sixth year just because she had kissed Krum two years prior. I don't like people who are that shallow and Draco is a sympathetic villain, he wasn't born bad like Voldemort or inherently evil like Bellatrix but rather, he was shaped into what he became. So I always liked stories where Hermione saved him from his darkness. Ron also hates him so it's a no brainer to me why 'Mione should marry Draco.

Yes Molly is going through a hard time but she still take part in the final battle, no spoilers of course so I'm not going to fill you in on what exactly her role is going to be. All I can say is that this story is mostly fully written and even though I chop and change before updating, I already have it planned whose going to as Grovek26 put it "Obliterate Bellatrix."

Concerning Lily, I'm glad somebody picked up on the subtle hints I've been placing in chapters concerning her role in the final battle and whilst I'm not going to mention your name here, I give you a big thumbs up for spotting it and sending me a PM about it. You will get a mention in the epilogue for solving the puzzle so early.

Read and Review. Reviews are Love!


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Old Friends**

Scorpius cried out bloodily as Lily severed his wings, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood as her _incisura_ arced through the air and sundered the feathery growths. A dull groan escaped him as she pointed her wand as the deep tears along his back, quickly and effortlessly healing his wounds and stitching together his shredded muscle and skin. It had been a last resort, unleashing such potently dark magic on himself to save her and he couldn't help but feel the twisted leaden feeling in his gut, the traces of dark energy he had forced into himself delighting in their new host.

"You ok?" Lily asked worriedly as he drew himself to his feet, shaking his body dully as he accustomed himself to the dizzy sensation.

"Fine," he coughed, before taking a step forward in the direction of the darkened castle. Wordlessly she followed him, they had no idea what the last Horcrux would be but they were certain it was concealed within the school. By her logic, she assumed it would be an artefact belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw, considering that two of the other horcruxes had belonged to Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin. By the same logic it could not be a relic of Gryffindor due to the fact that Voldemort held a deep hatred for anything that had to do with the House of Red and Gold, and that Gryffindor's sword was the only known relic of its heroic founder.

As they were nearing the outskirts of the forest, they heard a light cough and whirled, wands outstretched and killing curses primed at the tips of their tongues. Appearing from between the trees was a brunette witch dressed in shabby muggle clothing and whose face seemed to have borne the brunt of numerous cuts and bruises. Lily's wand dropped to her side in disbelief, her eyes widening as she took in the curly brown hair and pale heart-shaped face she had known so well in her childhood.

"Alison?" she asked, a grin appearing across her face as the nineteen year old witch smiled humourlessly at her, deep blue eyes filled with caution and laughter.

"Lily Potter, Scorpius Malfoy" said Alison Longbottom , not dropping her wand, "What brings you two to Hogwarts."

Lily opened her mouth to speak but before she could Scorpius interjected, "What was the name of the teddy bear given to you by Harry Potter on your seventh birthday?"

"Mr. Cuddles," she responded dryly, "Who enchanted him to sing my favourite lullaby?"

"Teddy Lupin," said Lily, fondly remembering the earlier days of the war before they were old enough to understand what was happening. She gave a sharp gasp when Alison flung her arms around them both, her face broken into a broad grin.

"It's good to see you two," she said happily, breaking away from them as a serious look settled over her face, "We need to get back to the Haven, there are Caterwauling Charms and patrols all over the grounds."

"Where have you been Ali?" asked Lily as they began following her, "Dad looked for you and Frank everywhere after your father got thrown in Azkaban."

"I'm a pureblood remember," Alison scoffed, "They didn't want to waste magical blood so they carted me of to Hogwarts. I've been here for years now, leading the D.A."

"Uncle Harry founded the D.A to fight Umbridge in his fifth year right?" asked Scorpius, ducking under a tree branch.

"Yes. Sad to say we're still fighting that old toad. She's been made Headmistress again you know."

"Talk about replacing gold with dragon dung," said Lily, "To think a hag like her could be named a successor to the likes of Minerva Mcgonagall, Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore." Even if they weren't engaged in a war, Lily was certain she would have loathed Dolores Umbridge. Not only because of the stories told to her by her father but also due to her malicious actions, one of the prime examples being that she had drafted several articles of anti-werewolf legislature which would make it extremely difficult for Teddy, Dominique and Altair to find jobs.

"Too right you are," said Alison with a faint smile, "You shouldn't heed what our parents told us about Hogwarts, it's changed a lot and not for the better."

"It can't be that bad if the D.A is still active," said Scorpius.

"The D.A has become nothing more than a group of students who are hiding in fear of their lives; we haven't had the opportunity to fight back in a while. Now that the Order is getting stronger though we managed to pull a raid a few weeks back, got ourselves a hold of some artefact that the Death Eaters were moving out of the castle, lost quite a few of our members against Bellatrix and her bitch Elena Avery though."

"An artefact?" asked Lily urgently, exchanging a quick glance with Scorpius, "Does it have anything to do with Ravenclaw?"

"How did you know?" asked Alison in surprise, "It's Rowena Ravenclaws' Diadem."

"It's the reason we're in Hogwarts," said Scorpius, "We need to destroy it."

"Good luck with that," scoffed Alison, "Bloody thing is impervious to every curse we throw at it."

"We have our ways," smiled Lily, fingering her knife. Scorpius smirked, she had stabbed a basilisk with that blade and goblin-made steel take in only that which makes it stronger. He would willingly break of his engagement to Lily if that blade wasn't imbued with basilisk venom.

They fell silent after that, eventually finding themselves at a huge tree. Alison tapped it with her wand, leading them further as the roots twisted to reveal a hidden tunnel. Scorpius glared at the hole in the ground, he had spent sufficient time underground to last him a lifetime.

"I don't remember this being on Teddy's map," said Lily with a wry smile.

"It isn't," said Scorpius who had studied the Marauders Map in great detail before leaving on their mission. "Isn't it obvious. Your dad told the story of how they got into Hogwarts enough times for you to realize where we're going." Lily and Alison laughed at his disgruntled tone.

"The Room of Requirement," said Alison with a smirk when Lily continued to look confused, before they descended into the depths. After a few yards, she spoke again.

"Is my father okay?" she asked quietly, and Lily realised that she had been putting off questions regarding her family up till now.

"He's fine," Lily shrugged, "We got him out of Azkaban with the rest, he's at one of our safe-houses. How's Frank?"

"Dead," said Alison, her voice catching in her throat as she fought to remain nonchalant whilst discussing her brother's death, "One of the Death Eaters brats got him a few years ago. The Zabini girl."

Lily and Scorpius froze, "Syrena Zabini?" asked Scorpius worriedly.

"That's the slag, hit Frank with an Avada when we tried to rescue a few Ravenclaws from the dungeons," said Alison in a dead tone, "Why do you ask?"

"She apparently defected to the Order," said Lily slowly. "She and James have a thing," added Scorpius.

"Good luck to your brother then," snarled Alison, "That bitch is up to her eyeballs in the dark arts, trained under Astoria Nott and Bellatrix Lestrange." Lily bit her lip, concern for James buffeting away the feelings of elation that her suspicions concerning Zabini were well founded.

"What's going to happen once you two destroy the artefact?" asked Alison in an attempt to change the subject.

"James said that the second we take care of the last Horcrux, it's time to fight," said Scorpius quietly.

"Why bother what James said, doesn't your dad call the shots Lily," she asked.

"Not any more, James been leading us for a while now," said Lily, "That's why the Order's been so active, he takes more risks than my dad." They fell silent for a long while, each taking in the changes in their respective worlds that they had been clueless about.

"Well we're here now," their guide said as she nudged open a wooden trapdoor and climbed into a large room, Lily and Scorpius following closely.

The room was full of bustling activity, teenagers locked in training duels and physical combat all around them in what appeared to be a much grander version of the training room in Grimmauld Place. Sturdy wooden pillars rose from the floor to the ceiling, each column hung with a rope ladder leading to the hammocks slung across the ceiling. Apart from the training room and mid-air sleeping quarters, Lily could also make out an open plan kitchen area, a recreation area and a door which obviously led to the bathrooms.

"The Diadem?" asked Lily urgently, awe-struck at how many people belonged to the D.A. There were quite a few people who like Alison where of age, as well as several dozen students. From what she could see, not many of the members were still considered students of the school. Judging by their bruises, their angry and resigned expressions and the determination with which they trained they were mostly fugitives . . . the same as she was. _A resistance right in the Heart of Hogwarts. _

The walls were draped with banners, the lion, raven and badger rampant across their respective fields. The green and silver of Slytherin was noticeable only by its absence.

"KREISS!" yelled Alison and a wiry, curly haired youth turned from what looked like a shooting range, his hand full of throwing knives, "Get the artefact." The boy nodded and took off into one of the ante-chambers without questioning, sweat trickling down his brow from the exertion of his training. From his brief glance he shot at Alison it was evident that he held a great deal of respect for the leader of the D.A.

"That's Josh Kreiss by the way, he's a seventh year Ravenclaw and their de facto leader. Nick Chase," she gestured to another blonde boy who seemed to be teaching several younger teenagers how to work the _incisura_ curse, "He's a sixth year Gryffindor, he doesn't leave the Haven because the death eaters have orders to kill him on sight. His twin sister Lena runs the Gryffindors. And that's Sara Macmillion, the Hufflepuff's answer to her."

"Quite an impressive set up you have here," said Scorpius, impressed at their organisation. He was surprised to see this side of Alison; she had always been a very shy and bookish girl when they were children.

"You two have no idea how bad it is here these days," said Alison, "It isn't so bad for the Ravenclaws or the Hufflepuffs but the Gryffindors are worth dragon shit. It's legal for Slytherins to practice the unforgivables on students from the other houses and anyone who steps out of line ends up dead. Half of these kids aren't passed their fourth year but were driven into hiding because of Umbridge and her new edicts. Just last week she had two of the first year Gryffindors flayed alive and then fed to the thestrals because they had lied about their blood-status."

"It's a good thing that we're here then," said Lily, eyes wide as she contemplated the unknown horrors of Hogwarts. At that moment Josh came running up to them holding a silver tiara in his hand.

The tiara was elegant and in the shape of an eagle, its wings spread to form the circlet, a large egg-shaped sapphire set as the centrepiece. The eagle head reared proudly into the air, fine chains dangling from the outstretched wings to frame the wearers face. Scowling at having to destroy something of such formidable value and pristine beauty, Lily handed the dagger to Scorpius with a grim smile.

"You haven't had the honour yet," she said.

He hesitated for a minute before bringing the knife down in a harsh arc, the piercing shriek of metal on metal filled the air as the diadem sundered and cracked, black sludge dripping like blood from every crack. The sapphire burst with a fierce scream of, showering them with blackened shards as Lily gasped, clutching at her side as if a piece of the gem had imbedded itself in her flesh.

(*)(*)(*)

"MUM," screamed Victoire urgently from her room, her face pale as pain coursed through her pelvis. Remy was kicking violently for an hour, by the dull crack she was sure her injured rib had been broken again as she fisted the sheets. She had dismissed the irregular shooting pain that she had been experiencing all morning as Braxton Hicks contractions but had immediately changed her mind when she felt a sticky liquid seeping down her thighs.

"What's going on Vicky?" said Louis as he hurried into her room, his face blanching as he noticed the large wet spot on his sister's' blanket.

"I think my water just broke," she said frantically, "Get mum."

"She's sleeping," said Louis as he went to her side, "I had to dose her with some dreamless sleep because she was having nightmares." Victoire paled, if her mother was under a sleeping potion then there would be no way to wake her until the potion wore off.

"Then get Teddy and Aunt Ginny dammit!" scowled Victoire as another wave of contractions hit her. She didn't intend to take out her anger on her brother but the reality of her situation was beginning to sink in. She was going into premature labour, whilst her mother was comatose, her father was paralysed and her brother was basically a squib.

"Can I help?" he asked quickly, ignoring her requests. In her fogged brain however, Victoire seemed to misunderstand his meaning.

"THERE IS NO WAY YOU ARE GOING TO DELIVER MY SON LOUIS," she shrieked.

Louis flushed as the full realisation sank in, that his big sister was going to be giving birth. But she was early, she was only halfway through her sixth month and from what little he knew of childbirth, that was a very bad sign.

"LOUIS!" screamed Victoire, snapping him out of his reverie. Turning on his heel, cursing himself for his lack of magic and inability to produce a Patronus, he ran for the floo.

(*)(*)(*)

"Any luck?" asked Dominique half-heartedly as Altair climbed back into their cave, wincing slightly as his knuckles scraped across the jagged rocks shielding the entrance. The cave had been a godsend for the two werewolves, living out in the open was a very dangerous option when in the midst of giant country, which was why they had both revelled in the discovery of their new hide-out. The entrance was barely a sliver in the mountainside; too narrow for a giant to so much as force their hand through yet the cave itself was reasonably spacious and comfortable.

"Fridwulfa is still withholding her allegiance," he sighed, his Italian accent colouring his voice in an unusually potent manner, "We're running out of gifts." Since they had found the Valley a little over a week ago they had been having little luck in swaying the giants to their side, although they took some small satisfaction in that Fridwulfa, their chieftess, had sent Macnair and his cronies running for their lives. This at least assured them that the Russian giant population would not be persuaded to join Voldemort and at the very least they would maintain a stance of neutrality.

"I still think I've heard that name before," said Dominique, "In one of Uncle Harry's old stories." She handed over a wooden skewer of charred meat to Altair, cooked on the outside but still red and raw within, "We're running out of food as well. We may need to go hunting soon." He nodded as he bit into the still bleeding pork, grease running down his chin as he nonverbally increased the fire's heat.

"If we still have no luck tomorrow, we should consider retur . . ."

She was interrupted by a loud thumping sound on the cave entrance, and a deep voice suddenly filtered in through the crevice. Hastily they both drew their wands and turned towards the sound.

"Did I 'ear me mum right? Yeh from the Order?" said the deep booming voice. Hesitantly, Altair and Dominique carefully squeezed themselves through the crevice and pointed their wands at the stranger. He was a giant of a man, not out of place considering they were around a giant population, but despite his formidable size he would easily be dwarfed by the smallest true giants. His face was completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of black hair and a wild, tangled beard but you could still very well see his eyes, glinting like two black beetles under all the hair. In his left hand he held a dangerously sharp double bladed battle axe, the same goblin-made weapon that Uncle Harry had given them as a gift for the giant chieftain – chieftess in this rare case – . In his right he flourished a flowery pink umbrella, it looked downright absurd in comparison to the terrifying impression he gave of.

"We're from the Order," said Dominique cautiously, her wand aimed directly at the oversized mans eyes, a _conjunctivitis_ curse on the tip of her tongue.

"Codswallop. I can see yer bite marks," scoffed the giant, glaring at the offending scars across her throat, "Werewolves fight for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Remus Lupin was a werewolf," said Dominique levelly, "And my father told me that he was one of the bravest men he ever knew."

"Aye he was," said the giant man conceding defeat, "Who ar yer two anyway?"

"Tell us your name and we shall tell you ours," said Altair with a tone of mistrust. Both he and Dominique had heavy bounties on their heads and it wouldn't do to identify themselves to a pure-blood sympathizer. Besides, he had a shrewd suspicion from listening in on Death Eater conversations about the man in front of him and if he was correct, they were looking at one of Dumbledore's former right hand men.

"The names Hagrid," said the bearded man causing Dominique to gasp in shock, "Rubeus Hagrid."

"You're Hagrid? The Gamekeeper of Hogwarts?" stammered the Veela-Werewolf and Rubeus narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion.

"My name is Dominique Weasley," she added in a more composed voice, "Youngest daughter of Bill and Fleur and pack leader for the Order's werewolves." Hagrid's jaw dropped in surprise at the notion that a Weasley would not only be a werewolf, but a werewolf Alpha at that.

"Altair le Oscurita," said the Italian with a nod, "Her Beta."

"Yer parent's ar alive?" asked Hagrid in a gruff voice that was thick with emotion as he gazed at Dominique, seemingly trying to work out if she was telling the truth.

"Most of my family is, in fact to quell your suspicions . . . Uncle Harry is fond of telling us the story of how you gave his cousin a pig's tale," said Dominique, her tone much warmer now that she knew she was speaking to one of her Uncle Harry's most highly esteemed childhood friends, "What are you doing in Russia Hagrid? The Order thought you dead."

"I didn't know yer'll 'ere alive yer see. After the Battle, I was in the Forest 'nd I saw the Order retreat. Professor Mcgonagall was dead, I figured 'Arry was dead seen as how You-Know-Who was winnin 'nd all so Grawp 'nd I got out of there. We got 'ere to Russia after a ways 'nd me mum is the chieftain so she let us live 'ere."

"We did lose the Battle of Hogwarts. But Uncle Harry is still alive and he led the Order in guerrilla warfare for years. But now James – his son – is in charge and we're taking the fight to the enemy. It's why we're here Hagrid. We need the giants on our side to win this war," said Dominique.

"I'll 'ave a word or two with me mum yeh?" said Hagrid grimly processing this new information, he had remained isolated in Russia since the Battle of Hogwarts and now if this young Weasley was to be believed, another great battle was on the horizon in Britain. He had heard whispers of the Dark Lord's power over the years, silent rumours that other Ministry's were falling under his sway. One thing though was clear. If Harry Potter indeed needed him, Hagrid would be there.

(*)(*)(*)

"YOU ARE NEVER GOING TOUCHING ME AGAIN TEDDY LUPIN!" screamed Victoire, squeezing her fiancé's wrist with all the strength she could muster, her knuckles white with the force of her grip.

Teddy blanched, his eyes widening in fear as he winced at her strength. _Merlin, how did she get strong enough to mangle a half-werewolf's wrist_, he thought warily. This was unprecedented in the family, save for Dominique after she had been bitten; none of his family possessed the strength to overpower him. Yet now he was pretty sure his wrist bones were cracking under Victoire's claws.

Ginny bit back a smile at the young couple, she had said the same thing to Harry when she had been delivering James and despite that, she had still gone on to carry Albus and Lily. She supposed her niece had it worse, her body temperature had sky-rocketed due to the lycanthropic nature of her pregnancy and she was burning through epidural potions faster than it was safe to replenish them. Naturally though, she also felt significantly bad for her godson considering he had to deal with the combined tempers of a Veela and a Weasley.

"I can see the head Victoire," said Ginny in an encouraging voice, "Just a few more pushes."

"I'LL GIVE YOU A FEW MORE PUSHES WOMAN!" shrieked Victoire, her face contorting in agony as she pushed nonetheless, tears of pain brimming in her eyes as she dug her nails into Teddy's wrist. The young metamorphmagus winced but had the good sense not to protest, forcing a small smile to his face as Fleur gave him a comforting pat on the back. It was amusing how these men always underestimated a Veela woman during childbirth; she herself had torn her husband's flesh with her bare hands whilst delivering Dominique (To this day he still claimed the scars had been given to him in battle). The Frenchwoman had been appalled that she had slept through the first half of her daughters labour and had steadfastly declared that she would never drink another sleeping potion for as long as she lived.

"Shh Vicky, you're almost there. Remy's almost here," said Teddy ignoring the bloody gouges running down his forearm. He was beginning to regret having insisted being by her side during the delivery and he was thinking that maybe it wouldn't have been such a bad idea to remain in the living room downstairs with his brothers and godfather.

"HOW DARE YOU ENCOURAGE ME LUPIN! YOU'RE NOT THE ONE PUSHING OUT A BLOODY DEMI-WEREWOLF FROM YOUR UTERUS," shrieked Victoire, halting in her tirade as she heard a light pop when her baby's head slipped out.

"One more push Vic," said Ginny as she held the Remy's head in one hand, the other braced to cradle his tiny body.

Victoire bit her lip, her face scrunched up in the pain of natural childbirth as with a final hard push the sound of a baby crying filled the room. She slumped backwards exhausted, her body feeling raw as exhaustion began creeping over her. Ginny smiled at the tiny boy in her arms as she cut the cord, delicately flourishing her wand to clean him as she bundled him into the baby blue blanket Fleur handed to her. Her smile grew broader as she placed her first grandson (grand-godson but Ginny didn't care for specifics) into Teddy's waiting arms before moving back to her station to deal with the afterbirth.

Something ignited in his heart the first time he held his son, a warm buttery feeling he had never felt in his life. Desire to nurture and protect, to love and to defend against the evils of the world welled up in Teddy as he gently rocked the newborn, a broad grin on his face as he felt Victoire weakly brush his arm with her fingertips. He loved his godparents and siblings, he loved his fiancé but there was no denying that that love paled in comparison to the burgeoning affection he felt for his firstborn.

"Can I hold him," said Victoire tiredly, drawing Teddy's attention to her. Reluctantly he let go of the squirming bundle as he placed Remy into her arms, grinning wider than ever as the tiny shock of mousy brown hair began glowing a vibrant neon green. _A metamorphmagus_, he thought happily, _My little wolfie metamorphmagus._

Victoire could only stare at the baby in her arms, he was larger than she expected considering he was premature though still so very tiny that she was afraid to hurt him if she held on too tight.

"Why is he still crying?" she asked worriedly.

"You need to feed him Victoire," sniffled Fleur, sobbing into her lacy handkerchief at the thought that she was now a grandmother.

Remy quieted down instantly once Victoire's newfound motherly instincts took over and she held him to her breast, her devoted gaze shifting after five minutes to find Teddy staring at them with a love struck delight.

"What?" she asked him.

"I think I just fell in love all over again," he said before planting a soft, chaste kiss on her lips.

(*)(*)(*)

"Congratulations son," said Harry, patting Teddy on the shoulder as his godson sat back sleepily beside his fiancé and son.

"Thanks dad," said Teddy with a smile, speaking to Harry and picturing Remus standing over his godfather's shoulder, his tone wistful as he thought of his own parents, "You think they know they have a grandson?" he asked.

"They're proud of you Ted," said Harry, smiling as he drew up a chair beside his godson, "I'm sure they're always watching you."

The door slid open as his brothers loped in, Albus' mischievous eyes twinkling whilst James had a wan smile on across his drawn face.

"You're his godfather," said Teddy, looking at his heartbroken younger brother. He had thought about it long and hard, and had discussed it at length with Victoire. Both had been unanimous in choosing James, there was nobody in the world that Teddy trusted more (save for Victoire of course).

"Me?" stammered James, "I'm a mess. I can't be a godfather."

"You're his godfather," repeated Teddy firmly, "There's nobody else I would trust more."

For a minute Harry could swear he saw a flash of hurt in Albus' eyes but it disappeared so quickly he was sure he had imagined it, he had always known that James and Teddy were closer so this didn't come as such a surprise. To Albus it didn't matter that he wasn't godfather, he would definitely make one hell of an uncle.

"I'd be honoured," said James as he pulled Teddy in for a "manly" hug, which quickly turned into a minor dog pile when Albus flung himself onto both of them. Chuckling softly, Harry walked out of the room, rolling his eyes at his sons. Teddy may be a father. James may just have had his heart broken. Albus may be envious of his older brother's relationship. But some things, regardless of war and suffering, would never change . . . brotherhood being one of them.

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please Read and Review. They make me happy. I need to be happy or I may become depressed and fail my exams. No pressure. BUT REVIEW!

Hey I also realised what a mess chapter 18 was so I completely re-edited it. The new updated version is up now.

Also please do check out my new Marauders Era one-shot, "I Knew." It's not a conventional pairing but it underlines how friendship always comes first to a Marauder.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

**A Power the Dark Lord Knows Not**

"Lily," said Scorpius in a concerned voice, "What was that earlier?"

"I'm fine Scorpius," she said, still feeling the same fleeting pain in her side that she had experienced that afternoon. Upon closer inspection she had realised that she had not been wounded in the slightest, in fact not a single piece of shrapnel had come anywhere near her. She had passed it off as a side effect of her time in the catacombs; she had after all been battered and bruised within an inch of her life during the labyrinthine trials. In fact, Alison had steadfastly collected the pieces and reassembled them sapphire just to be sure, and not a single shard was missing. Nonetheless, Scorpius had been shooting her furtive, suspicious looks the entire day.

"Really? Because it sounded like you had just been stabbed," he said, cursing himself for not being as skilled in the _Mind Arts_ as she was. Abandoning eye contact as it was of little use, her Occlumency far outshining his own feeble grasp of Legilimency, he slumped backwards on their transfigured double bed. Lily had flat out refused to sleep on what she termed, "a sheet of fabric suspended some twenty feet in the air," when Alison had offered them two hammocks.

"Let it go Scor," she said imploringly, "Like I said earlier, I got pretty banged up in the tunnels. It would be a miracle if I wasn't feeling pain."

Against his better judgement, he let the matter rest before snaking his arm around her and drawing her close, instantly feeling better as she lay her head on his chest.

"Are you worried about tomorrow?" she asked finally, relaxing as he absentmindedly drew circles down the small of her back. It had been decided between them and the leaders if the D.A that tomorrow she would send a patronus to her brother, calling the Order to arms whilst the D.A liberated the school from within. She remembered James' words, that for good or ill they would go to war once the last horcrux had been destroyed. If all went well, they would have seized Hogwarts by this time tonight and then . . . then they would face the Dark Lord and his armies.

"Yes. I'm terrified," he said in a brooding tone, "I'm scared that everyone I love is going to be in danger. I'm worried about my parents, about Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny, I'm worried about Jay and Al and Teddy. I'm worried about Cass, even if she's not going to be on the actual battlefield. But most of all I'm completely terrified that I may lose _you._"

"Scorpius," she whispered softly, "I can't lose you either. If you go down . . . I go down at your side."

"NO!" he said forcefully, pulling away from her and turning his stormy eyes at her, his expression livid, "If the time comes, if you have to choose between my life and yours, or you have to choose whether to get revenge and saving your own life then you will save yourself."

"I can't promise you that Scor," she said, "Because when it comes down to choosing between dying or having to live without you, we both know what my choice is going to be."

"PROMISE ME!" he snapped, "Please Lily," his anger was dissipating, replaced with a pleading misery, "Please," he whispered.

"I promise," she said finally, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him in for a tight hug as she buried her head into the nape of his neck. _Some promises were made to be broken Scorpius . . ._

(*)(*)(*)

Teddy smiled warmly as he rocked his day old son to sleep in his arms, feeling content as Victoire laid her head on his shoulder. Childbirth had been difficult for her but she had made a quick recovery, due in large part to Cassandra's healing potions and her Veela heritage. Even though he had barely known Remy for more than twenty four hours, he had come to learn a lot about the tiny metamorphmagus, the most important being that he refused to sleep unless he was in some ones arms. He had also been thrilled that despite being born premature Remy was healthy as any child, Harry going so far to venture a guess that his unique magical heritage may have played a vital role in his development.

His godparents were across the room, locked in a deep discussion with his future mother and father-in-law. He had been pleased that whilst Bill was now incapacitated, the older man was still mobile thanks to his newly transfigured wheelchair, courteousy of Hermione. It was enchanted with a minor flight charm, a weaker variation than the ones used on broomsticks so that he could move around his home with ease, an important factor considering Shell Cottage had multiple storeys.

His siblings were also present and had joined Louis in a highly competitive game of muggle snap, Teddy having steadfastly refused to have a set of _exploding snap_ in the general vicinity of Remy. James had stepped into his role as godfather quite admirably after the news had fully sunk in, hastily returning to Grimmauld Place to retrieve his treasured cuddly plush lion (slightly worn from age) and had presented it to his godson with a bright smile on his face. Teddy for one had been extremely appreciative of the gift as he fully understood its significance, the toy had been James' first present from Harry, and had been lent to Teddy when he was having nightmares concerning the death of Remus and Tonks, before being returned to James. It was a beautiful day and he could scarcely wait for his son to be old enough to be taken outside and to experience the scenic coastline surrounding Shell Cottage.

Suddenly a bright luminescent falcon flew into the room, leaving a spectral trail of gossamer white light through the air. The room quieted instantly, they all knew this particular patronus and had seen it cast many a time. Ginny clapped her hands to her mouth, tears in her eyes as the worry she had been feeling for her daughter dissipated. If Lily was able to send them a message then she was undoubtedly okay. The patronus prowled gracefully across the room, silvery eyes finally falling on James and landing on his outstretched arm before speaking in Lily's voice.

"We're in Hogwarts. The horcrux has been – Incisura – destroyed the D.A stands with us. We're preparing to take – Confringo – the school from within. Gather the Order, we've taken Ravenclaw Tower and secured the floo. Bring Louis; we have a cure – Avada Kedavra – to restore his magic. We're fighting." Lily's voice trailed off as the leopard dissipated into misty vapour. Ginny exchanged a horrified look with her husband, they all had heard the sounds of fighting in the background of the message, Scorpius in particular had been belting out lethal curses whilst Lily was speaking.

"Not again," murmured the Potter matriarch, remembering the last Battle of Hogwarts. She had known that they would be going to war once the last Horcrux had been destroyed but she had never expected it to be this soon. Glancing around the room, she took in Teddy's pale face, his usually blue hair turned ash-grey; Albus' emerald eyes, resigned and yet determined; Louis, oddly hopeful and yet petrified; Harry whose eyes were clenched shut, his teeth gritted painfully as he clenched his fist around the armrest of his seat. Beside her Fleur sobbed into Bill's shoulder whilst he awkwardly patted her on the back, his own scarred face heavy with bitterness. The happy mood in the room seemed to have been snuffed out in an instant, replaced with a lingering sense of dread as the harsh reality of war began to sink in.

Then her eyes fell on baby Remy, sleeping peacefully in his father's arms and she realised once again what she was fighting for. She was fighting for her children, her grandchildren and her family. She was fighting for a future where they didn't have to live in hiding, a future where they were free to play outside and to attend school. Relinquishing her hold on her husband's arm, she turned her gaze to her son and for the first time she didn't see the little boy who used to have nightmares after seeing his father soaked in blood. She saw a leader.

"You heard her," said James as he felt her gaze on him, fire burning in his tired hazel eyes as he got to his feet, "Send out your Patronuses . . . We're going to war."

(*)(*)(*)

"Avada Kedavra," cried Lily, ducking around the corner as a blasting curse hit the wall behind her, showering her with dust and rubble. Darting forward, she noted that her curse had struck the Slytherin she had been duelling in the chest, instantly killing him. She didn't hesitate as she stepped over his corpse, hurrying to catch up with Scorpius who was locked in combat with two burly death eater turned teachers.

"Petrificus Totalus," he snarled, his face contorted into an expression as feral as the wolf he could morph into, the curse missing its target by a hairs breath. Lily was at his side in an instant, scowling as three more students who bore the robes of Slytherin's joined in the assault against them. Her hastily erected shield charm trembled against the onslaught of curses, as the couple were pushed back, forced into defending rather than attacking under the superior assault.

"Metare Incendio," she called, conjuring a flaming meteor like projectile and sending it crashing into their assembled foes, revelling in the sickening crunch as it struck the taller death eater, knocking his mask to the ground and leaving a bloody hole in his chest. Stepping backwards to avoid a jet of green light, she lost her balance, hastily grabbing the railing to catch herself. Cursing under her breath, she realised they had been backed up against one of the schools many moving staircases.

"Vive Violati," came a high pitched squeak from behind them, as crackling bolts of black lightning flashed past her and struck three of her foes, blasting them across the room and filling the air with the acrid odour of burning flesh. The remaining Slytherin suddenly remembered a previous engagement and turned on his heel to flee, effortlessly being struck in the back by Scorpius' well aimed _sectumsempra._

Rushing up the stairs behind them was a midget of a man; short enough that he barely stood taller than her lover's waist. He clutched his wand, gasping slightly from having cast such a dark and draining curse, his lengthy white hair and beard subtly declaring his age. Judging by his flowing robes, he was one of the teachers of Hogwarts.

"Filius Flitwick at your service Miss. Potter," said the short man with a forced smile, "I believe I have you to thank for liberating my Ravenclaws." _Flitwick, _she thought,_ her father's old charms professor who had fought in the first Battle of Hogwarts and surrendered when they lost so he could stay and protect the students as best he could. _

"My father is on his way Professor," said Lily, hastily firing a stunning jinx to the landing below and catching a Slytherin in the face, sending him tumbling down the stairs.

"You realise Miss. Potter," began Flitwick nervously, "That this Battle has already been fought before at a most grievous price."

"History will not be repeating itself," Scorpius assured the tiny man from his position near the banisters, sending a string of hexes into the hall below.

"Let us hope so," said Flitwick wearily, "Now if you will excuse me, I must go assist my students."

(*)(*)(*)

James yanked on his boots hurriedly as the roar of the floo indicated that his parents had already left. They were both going to Weasley Manor to gather the forces before going to the school; he on the other hand was determined to make his way there as soon as possible. The final battle was something he had been anticipating for a long time and he was determined that it with not end as it had in the past. One way or another the war would be ending and that gave him hope, there was no way they could lose this time, not now that the majority of his forces were prepared to fight as dirty as the Death Eaters. But he also feared the battle, there were no assurances he or his family with be coming out of this conflict alive.

Furthermore he would be fighting against Syrena. He couldn't truly comprehend what he felt for her at the moment; her betrayal was still too recent for him to correctly assuage his emotions regarding the raven haired witch. He hated her but at the same time he loved her. He missed her but he never wanted to see her again. He wanted her out of his life but at the same time, he wanted to never let her go. Pushing thoughts of his former lover from his mind he shook his head as if to clear it, before going over battle strategies in his head. James had always prided himself on his strong willpower and fiery assertiveness, a trait he shared with his younger sister, though it was arguable that her temper was significantly more explosive. It was a firm fact however, that none of their other siblings dared get in the middle of an argument between James and Lily.

He yanked open his desk drawer as he searched for his blade, a goblin-made dagger that had been his coming of age present. Finding the blade and sheathing it at his waist, he froze as he noticed the square of parchment with his name written in her flowing calligraphy. Hesitantly he picked it up and began reading the words that composed Syrena's last letter.

_James. I can't forsake my family. I understand that you may hate me, but we're standing on two opposing sides of this war. In another life perhaps we could have been happy together. I'm sorry._

_-Syrena_

(*)(*)(*)

"I never thought I would live to see the day my children returned to Hogwarts," sighed Arthur as he slid his wand into its holster. The last Battle of Hogwarts had been a terrible time for his family; in the aftermath they had been forced to mourn the loss of a son. Recently he had grieved for Angelina, Lorcan (who was not his actual grandson but was as good as) and Ron, but now he had a terrible feeling in his bones that his family would not escape this final conflict unscathed. His dearest desire was that his grandchildren could at least survive but despite his deepest desires for them to remain safely ensconced at home he knew they would be on the front lines right beside their parents.

"That your way of saying you're old Gramps?" asked Fred II, smirking half-heartedly as he slung his alchemical belt across his waist, the pouches newly filled with Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, Phoenix ashes, crushed turquoise, silver dust and various other needed defences against the dark forces. He had inherited his father's innovative mind, and often blended his magical assaults with the contents of his pouches to lethal effect. His last field mission for instance, had involved a fight against a highly trained wizard who suffered from lycanthropy. His pouch of powdered silver had come in very handy during that particular duel.

"It's his way of saying that he never expected us to actually end this war," snapped Ginny, her nerves on edge. Like as not her children had already arrived at Hogwarts but more importantly she knew from bitter experience what they with be fighting against. Alongside the obvious dangers of Bellatrix and Voldemort himself, she alone had recognized the true threat to her family's safety. The greatest and most magically skilled of the Weasley siblings was a death eater and they would have to fight against him. Despite the constant teasing and insults when they had been younger, they were all well aware that Percy Weasley had been the only Weasley in several generations to attain twelve Outstanding's in his NEWT's. And having so recently lost his daughters at his own mother's hands, he with be duelling to kill.

"Mum?" George said suddenly, gazing up at the staircase as Molly Weasley descended whilst clasping her cloak around her neck.

"Yes Fred? Where is your brother? Fetch him quickly dearie, Harry, Ron and Hermione are already at the school," she said, raising her eyebrow, looking ghastly in the firelight as they took in the deep red gouges running down her cheeks from when she had clawed her own face in grief. She was thinner than they had ever seen her, her skin as pale as curdled milk, her hair brittle and wild as she finally reached the foot of the stairs.

"I'm right here mum," said Ginny worriedly, "You can't come with us, you're not well."

"Nonsense Ginny dear," the elderly woman said before suddenly rounding on her second eldest son, "Charlie, am I dead yet?"

"No," he said uncertainly, seeming quite unsure of how to deal with his mother in this state.

"Then until I am there is nothing stopping me from giving my all for this family," she said, sounding more lucid than she had in days, "Now stop staring, my grandchildren need us."

(*)(*)(*)

Teddy pulled on his dragonskin jacket, slinging the Sword of Gryffindor around his waist as walked towards the fireplace of shell cottage. He heard soft footsteps behind, turning he saw Victoire following, her pale blue dress replaced with clothing more suitable for combat. Her sleek bond hair was tied in a messy ponytail; her face was set in grim determination.

"Where do you think you're going? Teddy asked as he slipped his wand into its concealed holster, up his sleeve.

"With you," said Victoire as if it were the simplest concept in the world.

"You can't," he protested, "If they're taking Hogwarts then Voldemort and his Death Eater's are going to be attacking in force, who knows what will happen."

"I'm coming Teddy," she said in as stern a voice as she could muster.

"You just had a child Vicky," Teddy reminded her, "You can't come with –"

"I'm in the Order the same as you," she interrupted, "I trained at your side since I was old enough to hold a wand. I can do this." Just then the sound of Remy crying, disturbed from his sleep by his parents raised voices filtered down the stairs, quickly followed by Fleur's soothing voice.

"I know you can," Teddy returned urgently, remembering that on their last mission together it had been her who had saved his life from Bellatrix, "but we have a son now. You have to think of him."

"I am thinking of him," she retorted, "I want him to have a better life than we had. I don't want him to grow up in fear, and I can't do that sitting here and waiting."

Teddy sighed and took a few steps closer to his fiancé. His voice took on a soft, emotional tone as he spoke, "No one knows what could happen tonight." He paused for a moment as if searching for the right words to say before taking a deep breath and continuing, "If something were to happen to me . . ." he trailed off, struggling with the horrible thought. He shook his head roughly and went on, "Remy needs at least one parent, he needs his mother."

Victoire looked at his face as if she were fighting back tears. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, the other reaching up to stroke his cheek. "He needs his father too Teddy," she said quietly, "Please don't go alone . . . Please," silent tears now trickling down her cheeks as she looked into his eyes.

Teddy pulled her into a hug, "You _have _to stay here," he begged into her ear. "I wouldn't survive if I lost you or Remy," he added softly as he brushed away a tear from her cheek. "I'll be back before you know it," he added softly, in a feeble attempt at lightness.

"Please be careful," she whispered as her tears seeped into his cloak.

"I will," he assured her before giving her one last kiss. Reluctantly he turned away from her and headed into the fireplace, and in a roar of jade flames he was gone.

(*)(*)(*)

"The hell I am," snapped Cassandra, potion bottles clinking as she shoved them into her satchel, thanking Merlin for the undetectable expansion charm as she cleared her shelves. Albus paced behind her, James and her parents had already floo'd to Hogwarts. Her Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny were at Weasley Manor, prepping themselves for the coming conflict.

"Dammit Cassandra! You need to stay right here," said Albus angrily, he had been arguing his position with her for an hour now and had made no headway in convincing her.

"I am not going to wait here while everyone I love goes to war," she said, whirling around and accidently sending several vials of acromantula venom shattering to the ground in her zeal.

"Be reasonable Cass. You're not a fighter," he said, desperate to keep her out of harm's way.

"Albus Severus Potter," her voice was deadly calm, "I am going whether you like it or not." She held up her hand to silence him before continuing, "I love you and I know you're just trying to keep me safe but you do not get to dictate my actions. I will fight in this war and there is nothing you can do to stop me." Albus stared at her in awe and frustration, knowing he was fighting a losing battle but stubbornly maintaining his stance. Save for Victoire, Fleur and Bill his entire family was going to be on the battlefield. He couldn't let Cass endanger herself as well.

"Please Cass," he begged, "I can't lose you."

"If our roles were reversed would you follow me?" she asked coldly, raising her eyebrow icily.

"That isn't the same and you know it," he said, understanding her logic but refusing to concede her point.

"Albus," she said in a softer tone as she placed her hand on his shoulder, "I'm not staying. I'm going to go to Hogwarts at your side . . . you can't stop me, all you can do is accept my choice."

"I don't want this for you," he said, his emerald eyes pleading as he leaned in so that their foreheads brushed against each other, "I love you Cassandra, I need to keep you safe . . . and I can't protect you if you're on the battlefield."

"I know Albus," she said, "But this is my choice."

Resignation set into his features as he took her hand, the two of them descending to the living room in silence. Reaching the fireplace they both took a handful of floopowder and flung it into the embers, stepping side by side into the jade flames with as together they yelled, "HOGWARTS."

(*)(*)(*)

"I will have order," squealed Dolores Umbridge as she descended from her office, her stubby wand pointed before her as the sounds of fighting filled the air. She had been enjoying a pleasant afternoon nap after having spent the morning taunting the portraits of Mcgonagall and Albus when news of the rebellion had reached her. The spells attached to the portraits were powerful and she had fought a fruitless vendetta to try and remove them from their mounts, something which made the usually dour Severus Snape smirk vindictively from his own portrait. She did not find it amusing that the Dark Lord had refused to assist her in removing them, claiming it to be the perfect punishment that they watch their beloved school be corrupted. Still, she dearly would like to get the opportunity to punish them accordingly and she had found that much to her chagrin, the cruciatus curse did not affect paintings.

When news of the school's turmoil had reached her ears it had been far too late to effectively quell the uprising. As far as she could tell, the Gryffindors had already liberated their Tower and most of the school was being taken by outlaws and undesirables. The dungeons alone were still held by her Slytherins, but they were rapidly being overrun. Her first thought had been to shut down the castle's floo network but had once again been thwarted, whilst the dark spells cast on Hogwarts by the Dark Lord gave him and by extension her a great deal of control over the school she found that she could not tame the ancestral dwellings of the lesser houses. Ravenclaw Tower in particular was resisting her commands, and already dozens of Order members were flooding the castle.

Needless to say she was leaving the castle immediately and seeing as the fireplace in her office was being most unyielding and refusing to light (Minerva had found this very amusing), she had to escape by foot. She planned to use one of the secret passageways on this floor to reach Hogsmeade and reach the Ministry. It was obvious she would need reinforcements to deal with the situation and she was hoping to return with the might of the Aurors behind her.

"Are we going somewhere Dolores?" asked a cool voice from behind her, causing her to turn in alarm as she realised that she had a wand trained on her back.

"Sybil," said Umbridge in a sugary tone, "Whatever are you doing?"

"I was under the presumption that you believed my predictions to be fake," said Sybil Trelawney with a tight smile, her magnified eyes harsh and unrelenting as she continued, "Why then would you ask me to explain my actions?" Sybil had remained as the divination professor following the Battle of Hogwarts due to the extreme value Voldemort placed on her life, she having made two prophecies that concerned him in the past. He deemed it prudent to keep her under his thumb where he could monitor her for any further glances into his future and she had readily agreed to remain in her capacity as a teacher so that she, like Flitwick, could do her best to protect the students.

"Whatever do you mean?" asked Dolores, backing away hesitantly as Sybil's wand sparked threateningly.

"Harry Potter is returning to Hogwarts Dolores," said the divination professor, "Surely you understand why that is."

"LIAR!" shrieked Umbridge, "YOU MUST NOT TELL LIES!"

Umbridge's curse shot through the air clumsily, easily deflected by the seer as she calmly stepped forward. A second curse, a third and then a fourth flew through the air, all quickly ricocheting against Sybil's shield charms.

"You should have heeded my words Dolores," she said coldly, "I did warn you were in extreme danger." The jet of green light flashed from her wand, striking the toad-like woman in the chest and killing her instantly. Quietly, Sybil Trelawney stepped over the woman's corpse, making sure to spit on her stiffening face before making her way to join the rest of the Order in the Great Hall.

(*)(*)(*)

Victoire sat in her living room, glancing worriedly at the clock every few minutes. It had been two hours since Teddy had gone, and she had been waiting on the edge of her seat for news from the battle. The entire family had gone, even Louis – though their mother had insisted he return home as soon as he had taken the cure, something that Victoire found extremely unlikely as knowing her younger brother, he would be staying and fighting with the rest of them. Her parents had been unable to; both have to remain due to Bill's condition and to assist in caring for Remy.

Fleur entered the room with little Remy in her arms, his hair a vivacious shade of bubblegum pink as she came to sit beside her daughter.

"I've zent word to Gabriella," said Fleur solemnly, "She ees mobilizing zee French Aurors but it vill take time before zey can reach Hogwarts." Remy began to squirm in his grandmother's arms, so Victoire rose from her chair and took him from her mother. As she rocked her son, he immediately quieted. Despite the fact that he had relaxed, her movements were almost robotic, as if she were not mentally present in what she was doing, her eyes distant as though raging some great war in her mind.

"I don't know what to do," confessed Victoire quietly, "I know Teddy said I needed to stay here and that Remy needs me, but I can't stand not knowing what's happening at Hogwarts." She began to pace the room, still mechanically rocking her son.

"Go," said Fleur in a resigned voice, her eyes brimming with tears as she watched her oldest daughter. Was it not bad enough that Dominique was still in Russia? Or that Louis was at Hogwarts? Must she watch Victoire leave to war as well; she had little choice in the matter. Victoire was too much like her, and would follow Teddy to war just as she had once followed Bill.

"You want to," continued the Frenchwoman sadly, "I vil watch Remy for you till you return."

Victoire set her son into her mother's arms and enveloped her in a tight hug, "Thank you mum," she said quietly, planting a kiss on her cheek. Looking down at the child cradled in her mother's arms, she planted a tender kiss on his forehead.

"Mummy loves you Remy. I love you so much Remy. I'll be back as soon as I can," she said softly as she turned towards the fireplace. Her mother caught her arm.

"Be careful," Fleur warned quietly as the tears began to fall.

"I will," said Victoire as she flung the floo powder into the fireplace, and disappeared in a flare of jade green fire.

(*)(*)(*)

"Louis," yelled Teddy, "Where the hell do you think you're going?" The young veela ignored his future brother-in-law, if anything speeding up as he navigated the vast corridors of Hogwarts, letting the pull of the runes draw him closer. He was secure in the knowledge of his safety; the D.A had secured the school half an hour ago and were already working with the Order to implement basic defensive enchantments on the castle.

He felt revitalized, more powerful than he ever had before, the waters of the Oasis having restored his magic and life force to their original capacity. Lily had officially become his favourite cousin after her efforts in making him a wizard again. She had laughed him off before disappearing back into the castle with Scorpius and Alison, yelling something about liberating the Hufflepuffs. But no sooner than he downed the contents of the shimmering vial had he felt the draw of the runes, the distinct pull that accompanied powerful runology. He didn't know where exactly he was going as he began climbing the stairs; dimly he could hear Teddy and James tearing after him. He didn't want them to catch up for some reason; he didn't feel the slightest bit of remorse as he magically sealed the door behind him.

He was halfway up the tower when he heard their fists against the door, the crash of blasting curses rebounding of enchanted oak. He knew where he was now, he had finally realised it as he climbed. This was the Astronomy Tower, the tower upon which Dumbledore was killed, the one part of the castle that was stained with irrevocable dark magic and blood, making it the perfect place for Voldemort to create his own runes, binding the castle to his dark machinations and gaining dominance over the sentient building. His breath caught as he reached the highest room of the tower, his eyes darting over the blood-red runes drawn across every square inch of the dank stone. His face hardened, these were blood runes, something even a prodigy such as himself shied away from. The largest, drawn upon the floor, was the rune of enslavement and it required the blood of thirteen virgin girls to be properly cast. Staring in horror he realised the meaning of the other runes around him. _Enslavement. Torment. Darkness. Control. Dominion. _Those were but a few of the symbols bloodily spread across the room. In that moment Louis realised what he needed to do.

Stepping forward, he extricated from his pocket the black cloth he had been working on. His own symbol, imbued with runes that were both powerful and restorative, glimmered in the dull light of the clouded sky . . . and had it just been a coincidence that he had drawn it in Anti-Darkness Elixir. He hesitated for a moment, looking at the runes he had woven into the fabric and shook his head . . . there was no such thing as fate or destiny . . . it had just been coincidence that he had been working on this particular symbol. _Protection. Freedom. Hope. Defiance. Healing. _They were the runes most potently enchanted on his symbol.

"What are you playing at?" gasped James, out of breath as he appeared at the top of the stairs with Teddy hot on his heels.

"Don't you feel it," said Louis in a strange voice, "The castle is a prisoner. It's held in the thrall of dark magic."

"What are you talking about Louis!" barked Teddy.

"I can free it," said Louis in that same strange voice.

"You need to go home to Shell Cottage Louis," said Teddy more urgently, "This isn't the place for a fourteen year old. You've been given the cure now go home."

"Hey Teddy," said Louis with a strange, unexplainable look on his face, "Tell Vicky to name your next kid after me okay." And before the meaning of his words could sink in he had stepped into his runic symbol, and Teddy and James had both been thrown of balance by a shockwave of pure magical energy.

"_Hic__mihi__et exaudi verba mea__. __Fugiant__confringetis__iubeo__, __quia__tam diu__habere__, quod __tibi__ligat__alligatum.__Libertas__, sint tua tibi, __audi__vocem meam,__et__quasi catenulas se__praevaricator__rune__coram__domino__postulat__exhibetis__verba mea__. __Rumpe__iam__infrenaverunt__sanguinis__, et miseria. __Rumpe__iam__liberi__, __quod__sol et__luna__et stellae et__lumen__eu__praecipio__tibi__. __Et__collidam in te__, et __in umbra__servitutis__vincula__e__s . . ._" Louis' voice seemed to magnify as he chanted, invoking his runes which glowed like spiralling silver moonbeams whilst the castle around them trembled, struggling to break free of the dark spells that bound it. _Free me_, he heard echoing through his pulsing mind as he continued to chant in flawless Latin, pouring his magical energy into the symbol at his feet.

The symbol seemed to expand, rising into the air of the now scorched cloth till it spun around his narrow waist, an intricate circle of runes spinning around him as the castle began to quake under the opposing runes of shadow and light. Teddy and James stared in horror, neither able to get near to the blonde boy without being hurled backwards. Louis continued to chant as around him the blood runes took flame, scorching away to nothing.

A fell voice filled the air, a serpentine muttering that chilled the observer's hearts. The blood runes strengthened, those that were burning rapidly been quenched and beginning to gleam with a savage red fury. Louis gritted his teeth, as he battled for superiority with the Dark Lord himself, pumping his magical reserves into the runes. A wet trickling on his lips told him his nose was bleeding.

"You think to challenge me child," hissed the Dark Lord, his voice carrying over the wind, his tone colder than the grave.

"I'm stronger than you Riddle," yelled Louis defiantly, feeling the tug in his chest and the rapid beating of his straining heart as he began pouring in his life energy.

Voldemort chuckled darkly, increasing the force of the magic that he was bearing down against the blonde veela, the wind around the grounds whipping furiously as the two kept up their mental battle for dominance of Hogwarts.

Louis' eyes flared, images playing in his mind as he fought the Dark Lord.

_Victoire, Dominique and Louis building sandcastles on the beach outside Shell Cottage . . . Louis receiving his first wand from his father . . . Louis learning magic on his mother's knee . . . His first rune . . . Ten year old Louis questioning Teddy about his intentions for Victoire . . . His first hangover . . . Losing his magic . . . His mother giving him her own wand to replace his broken one when he left for Hogwarts . . . His nephew's shock of neon green hair . . . Louis smiling the first time he held Remy . . . Altair teaching him how to throw a knife . . . Dominique teaching him how to swim . . .Watching Teddy and Victoire holding Remy . . ._

"You can't beat me," he said in a pitying voice, "For I have a power that you do not."

He gave himself to the runes, every fibre of his being and every memory. He poured everything that he was into the castle, offering up his core to power the runes swirling around him. Voldemort screamed in disbelief as Hogwarts quaked, the blood runes around the room burning away to ashes as it was freed from his grasp.

"I know how to love," he whispered before his knees buckled and he fell to the ground. Teddy and James rushed forward; finally able to approach him as the ozone charged air began clearing of dark energy. Teddy shook him violently whilst James pointed his wand at the boy's chest, yelling "_enervate"_ over and over again.

Louis remained still on the cold stone floor as for the first time in seventeen years, a ray of sunlight pierced the omnipresent dark clouds that for so long had blotted out the sky.

(*)(*)(*)

_A/N: Well my dear Readers the final Battle is upon us. It's very sad about Louis and I had difficulty proof reading it; I would very much appreciate your views on his sacrifice? So we have Cass and Victoire both following their men to war, I'm wondering about your reactions to that as well. First person to realise who Teddy and Victoire are mirroring will receive digital cookies. To clarify, Lily was not actually stabbed with a horcrux piece in the previous chapter my dear reviewer. She felt as though she had been stabbed. I also gave Sybil Trelawney her moment of glory in this chapter, I always envisioned her to be the one who with kill Umbridge after what happened in Harry's fifth year. So please read and __review__, and leave your views and criticisms._

_For those who are interested, Louis' chant in English translates to: Here my voice and heed my words. I command you break and shatter, binds that have for so long held you chained. Freedom be yours, hear my voice, I breaker of chains and rune master demand you yield before my words. Break now runes of blood and misery. Break now, Break free, By the light of the sun and the moon and the stars I command you activate. Activate and shatter the chains of shadow and servitude._


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

**Where You Go, I Go**

Harry Potter raised himself to his full height on the raised dais, flanked by several members of his family as he flourished his wand, lighting the braziers and torches that hung around the Great Hall and filling the room with warmth and crackling firelight. The Hall itself was full to bursting, standing alongside the Order of the Phoenix were the D.A and the students of Hogwarts, not to mention the residents of Hogsmeade who had arrived on the scene for the impending battle, led by a very cranky Madam Rosmerta. His brow furrowed slightly at the sight of so many underage wizards standing amongst the assembled throng, dozens of them standing and gazing expectantly up at him with grim expressions on their young faces.

The great doors where flung open as his two eldest sons walked into the room, both grim-faced yet seeming oddly emotional. Quickly, the pair pushed their way through the crowd and climbed onto the stage. He felt a hand grab his wrist, and both he and his wife were pulled behind the staff table by Teddy.

"Louis is dead," said the young metamorphmagus, his voice quivering with pent up emotion. Harry shook, his eyes widening in disbelief as he felt Ginny clutch at his arm for support, her body shaking as she suppressed her sobs.

"How?" he asked, his eyes darting across the podium to where James was speaking furtively with Molly and Arthur. By the looks on his mother-in-laws face, she was ready to kill. Arthur on the other hand seemed solemnly broken, as if he had expected such events to occur and had just been proved correct. True, he himself had been scared shitless about his children, nephews and nieces' going to the battle . . . but Louis was fourteen dammit. Too young to fight in this war.

"You-Know-Who had the castle under the grip of blood runes and dark magic," Teddy began, "Louis used his own runes to break them and free the castle but the cost was too much." Tears beaded in Ginny's eyes before she blinked them away. Her youngest nephew had given his life for their course, she should honour his sacrifice and avenge his death rather than wallowing in grief.

"That brave stupid boy," muttered Harry under his breath, closing his eyes and shaking his head fervently in the vain hope that he was imagining this.

"Dad," said Teddy, breaking him out of his stupor, "They're waiting for orders," he gestured at their assembled forces. Harry nodded and stepped back to the forefront of the podium, before beginning to speak in a determined voice, leaving Ginny and Teddy conversing in hushed whispers. He distinctly heard the phrases;_ He's in the hospital wing . . . Patronus . . . Bill and Fleur . . . His sisters . . ._

"Voldemort," a collective shudder swept through the room, "Is coming. And when he comes we will fight. We will fight and this time we will win," a ragged cheer went up, mainly from the D.A, "Understand that many who fight against us are fighting under the influence of the imperius curse, and more still have been blackmailed into following him. Kill only as a last resort, do not stoop to their level. If we kill all who stand in our way, we are no better than the death eaters we fight against. Stun and petrify, oliviate where necessary –" the hall was quickly filling with mutinous glares. He felt someone come up beside him, glancing peripherally he saw James standing with a molten fire in his eyes.

"Do **NOT** hesitate to kill," said James, his voice rising with every word, brimming with confidence and camaraderie, masking his own emotional pain and misgivings behind a wall of fiery indifference. When Harry opened his mouth to object, Ginny stepped up beside him and pulled him back, shaking her head jerkily to silence him. Now was not the time for sentimentality.

"They will be coming in their hundreds and in their thousands and let me assure you they will not be fighting to stun or _disarm._" He emphasised the last word to make it clear what he thought of disarming at a time like this, his tone sending a subliminal message straight to his father. He loved the man dearly, but Merlin he was too humane and compassionate for his own good sometimes. "We're outnumbered, we don't have the numbers to fight a pitched battle and win. We need to go in for the quickest kills and take down as many of them as we can and as fast as we can. It doesn't matter if they've been blackmailed or cursed to fight for the enemy. What matters is that they're standing against us, which means we cut them down." There was a magnanimous roar of approval as the Order's young leader spoke, his words cruel yet practical.

"A battle plan has been agreed upon by the leaders of the D.A and the Order," he continued, causing the room to fall silent as they awaited their instruction.

"We need teams of fliers in the sky to provide aerial cover," James said firmly, "Mum, you're in charge." Ginny nodded in agreement, she was one of the best fliers that the Order had.

"We need fighters to take up positions in the schools towers to work spells over the grounds, Scorpius; Draco and Charlie are to take command of these teams. The secret passageways need to be guarded, caved in where necessary; I think that's a job for you George. Dad," he turned to Harry, "You, Hermione, Teddy and I are going to lead groups of fighters into the grounds."

"Oi!" yelled a sixth year Gryffindor, Nick Chase, "We can't go out there on the ground. They have giants on their side."

"So do we," came a cool, clear voice from the doorway as Dominique and Altair strode in, followed by the entirety of their pack. At their side loped a giant of a man, armed with a battle axe and a flowery pink umbrella. "Hagrid?" croaked Harry in disbelief.

"Oryt there 'Arry?" asked the half-giant, his beetle like eyes oddly teary.

"We got your patronus," said Dominique, "Seems our Portkey got us back just in time."

"Chieftess Fridwulfa and her clan have set up camp near the Covered Bridge," said Altair, his Italian accent flaring, "She seems to harbour a personal grudge against Golgomath."

"Excellent," said James, "Anything else?"

"We need to get the younger students out of here before the battle begins," said Alison Longbottom firmly, much to the obvious chagrin of the pre-teens.

"We can fight," squeaked a short boy with straw coloured hair and a button nose.

"Yeah," chimed a dark haired girl, whose pale face was heavily freckled, "We're in the D.A too."

"You are too young to fight," said James, thinking of Louis as he spoke, "Everyone under the age of fifteen is to leave the castle at once, use the Ravenclaw floo and go to . . ."

"Weasley Manor," said Arthur quietly, "Poppy should go with them, they'll need an adult. I'd send them to Shell Cottage but with what's just happened . . ."

"Evacuate them to Weasley Manor," continued James loudly, "Madam Pompfrey, I trust that you will be willing to escort them to safety?" The elderly matron nodded.

"What about our owls and trunks?" asked the same dark haired girl who had spoken before. James fought back the urge to stun her and have her levitated to the Ravenclaw Common Room.

"There is no time to gather your belongings," said Hermione gently, "What matters is your lives."

The elderly matron drew her wand before gathering the younger students too her, pausing only to argue vehemently with those who refused to leave, often threatening them at wandpoint until they stalked off with the other youngsters, albeit with ill grace.

"We have prisoners," said Alison in a grimmer tone, "Slytherins who didn't die in the battle. Do we execute them or hold them hostage."

"Neither," said Harry in alarm and even James seemed unsure of the answer.

"Did they raise your wands against you?" asked Ginny, barely contained hate evident in her tone as she referred to the Slytherins.

"Yes," said Josh Kreiss, "They fought back rather than surrender the school."

"Then kill them," said Ginny fervently, her thoughts trained on her fallen nephew, "Luna would you mind doing the honours?"

"It would be my pleasure," said Luna with a menacing smile on her face.

(*)(*)(*)

"You shouldn't have come," said Teddy in shock, "Remy?"

"He's with my mother, she'll look after him," said Victoire, "_You_ need me tonight."

(*)(*)

"Stay safe," said Scorpius as he wrapped his arms around Lily in a tight embrace.

"Don't I always?" she smirked into his ear.

"Nagini? The catacombs? The basilisk? The bloody Kraken?" he said, his lips curling into a smile despite himself.

"Shut up."

"Make me," he teased, the pressing danger of the situation lost on them for the nonce.

"Gladly," she said with a smile, pressing her lips to his.

(*)(*)

"If we get out of this alive, I'm marrying you," grinned Albus as he looped his arms around his girlfriend.

"That is the most unromantic proposal I have ever heard," said Cassandra, her nose brushing his as her breath ghosted over his lips.

"I'll try again after we win," said Albus with a teasing grin.

"You better," she said, before leaning in so her lips brushed his.

"I love you Cass," he murmured as he kissed her.

(*)(*)

"Going in alive," said Lysander with a crooked grin.

"Coming out the same way," said Roxanne with a wink.

(*)(*)

"The last Battle brought us together," said Hermione quietly, sinking into her husband's arms, "This one had better not tear us apart."

"You're not getting rid of me that easily Granger," he smirked, his stormy grey eyes clouded with worry.

"Granger?" she asked in mild amusement, "I thought I was a Malfoy."

"You were born my Granger," he said, nuzzling her ear, "You became my Lady Malfoy."

"You make me sound so old."

"You are a year older than me," he said seriously.

"Hey," she mock smacked him upside the head, "I'm also twelve years younger."

"I am a very lucky man in that case," Draco grinned, his concerns momentarily forgotten, "Too have pulled such a pretty young thing."

"Stay lucky then," her tone was serious, "and come back to me alive."

"I survived twelve years of torture Hermione," he said, his grey eyes flecked with mercurial silver gazing deeply into her pools of chocolate brown, "Nothing is coming between us again."

(*)(*)

"We never raised them to be so cold," said Harry quietly.

"We raised warriors," said Ginny firmly, "This is war Harry, I would rather every death eater die painfully than lose a child."

"I know," he said, "I just never wanted this for them."

"Be that as it may," she said, "We've thought them all they know."

"But not everything we know," there was a faint twinkle in his eye again.

"Stay alive Harry," she said after a long while, "You can't save everyone so don't kill yourself trying. Stay alive and come back to me when this is all over."

(*)(*)

"We survived a lot together," said Dominique, "Let's not change that tonight."

"I have no intention of dying Domino," said Altair, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"Neither do I," she said, her blond hair falling sleekly over his shoulder as she leaned into his embrace, "Not now that I have you."

"I love you," he whispered, and her eyes widened slightly into the nape of his neck. He had never said those words to her before, and it truly meant the world to her. Altair, who had never known love in his life, had just told her that he loved her.

"I love you too Altair," she said, "More than my own life."

(*)(*)

James stood alone in the entrance hall whilst the couples and families stole a few moments together in the Great Hall, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again. The ornately carved doors were open, letting in a cool breeze which tousled his dishevelled hair. In the distance he could vaguely make out the enemy camp, Voldemort having gathered his dark forces to his side and hastened to the school. From what he could make out, more were arriving by the second. He had been correct in his assumptions, they were many times outnumbered.

Before he could chicken out, he extended his wand before him and whispered, "Expecto Patronum." His powerful lion burst from the tip of his wand, lighting the room with flickering luminescent light as the king of beasts bowed its regal mane, awaiting his message.

"Find Syrena Zabini," said James thickly. "Message: I wish you had told me from the start that you would one day break my heart, maybe then I would have tried not to fall in love with you."

He nodded quickly to signify that he was done, the lion tilted its head to the side in acknowledgement before taking off in a run towards the death eater camp.

Only after the lion was gone did he whisper to himself, his voice lost in the empty hall as he began walking back to the Great Hall.

"_**I have every reason in the world to hate you Syrena. So why do I still love you?"**_

(*)(*)(*)

"Potter!" barked Mcgonagall from the nearby portrait of the Fat Lady's bosom friend, Violet.

"Professor Mcgonagall," said Harry, affection for his former head of house bubbling in his heart as he rushed towards the portrait, Ginny in tow. James, Scorpius and Lily followed somewhat quizzically.

"Professor Dumbledore would like a word with you," she said sharply, her eyes flickering with an unrecognizable emotion . . . was it pity?

"We don't have time for that Professor," said Ginny in a slightly strained voice.

"Harry," began Minerva, startling them both, she rarely if ever addressed her students by their first names, "You cannot win this battle."

"And why not," said Harry, beginning to feel angry at her apparent lack of faith.

"Come to the Headmasters office and we will explain, Severus, Albus and I," she said insistently.

"My children are getting ready to fight out there Minerva," said Ginny in a strikingly similar manner to an enraged Molly Weasley, "Tell us now." When the portrait remained silent she began to drag her somewhat reluctant husband away, they both needed to assemble their teams and take up their positions.

"Harry!" Minerva Mcgonagall called in a tone neither had heard before, remorseful and pitying, "You can't win because one Horcrux still remains."

The world seemed to stop, their hearts plummeting as one to leave craters through the floor, and they stared at each other in horror. How long they stood, disbelieving and crushed, they did not know, till finally James broke the silence and met Minerva Mcgonagall's sorrowful gaze.

"Are you certain?" he managed, closing his eyes to collect himself when she nodded.

"Dad, Lily," said James, his voice threatening to break at any moment, "Go to the Dumbledore's office, find and destroy the last horcrux . . . quickly." He glanced at Scorpius, and a look of resigned understanding passed between the two young wizards, one that was not missed by Ginny. The Potter Matriarch sighed, but nodded at both boys before turning to her husband and daughter.

"Find it," she said, "We'll hold Voldemort off as long as we can, but we can't finish him until the Horcrux is destroyed."

Just then, all attention was diverted as a sable lioness darted between them, red eyes glinting murderously before inclining its head in a marginal facade of respect before speaking in Syrena's voice.

"The Dark Lord has given the order, we're coming."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty Two**

**Redemption and Sacrifice**

Ginny whipped through the air on her _Comet 760_, borrowed from the Hogwarts broom sheds, her fiery hair flashing as she circled the castle sending artful jinxes into the squadrons of Death Eaters swarming the grounds below. Around her, her flyers whizzed by, harsh blurs as they evaded the counter-curses and spells flung their way. There was a ringing screech as a pair of dragons plummeted from the skies, spitting fire and fighting fang and claw as they both crashed into the Forbidden Forest, the trees spearing them like a thousand lances and claiming their lives.

She was responsible for what history would one day call _The Purge_, the death of every Slytherin that bore the mark of a death eater in training, the black serpent twisted across their right wrist into the shape of a perverse infinity symbol. Only the first years, and a handful of second years had been spared death, whilst every other child of Green and Silver had perished in her zeal. The Order had been queasy and hesitant in taking such action but Ginny had been adamant, if they took the mark they died. Three of the Slytherin sixth years had renounced the dark lord and taken up with the Order, they were thus spared the fate of their housemates after Lily's legilimency had proved that they were honest in their defection. Still, cruel as this may seem to the unwary observer, the Slytherin's had chosen to follow Voldemort rather than renounce him . . . and so they paid the price.

A flash of green light flashed through the air, missing her by inches, and spinning in mid-air she turned to face her new opponent. Malice and hate bubbled through her as she took in the enemy flyer; speeding over the Black Lake on a _Cygnet 2007_, there was no mistaking the midnight blue streaks in her raven hair.

She darted forward, rapidly dodging a pair of jinxed bludgers, revelling in the sickening crunch of breaking bones as they found their marks amidst the death eaters. Her wand slashed the air viciously as she unleashed a string of lethal curses towards the unsuspecting chit that had broken her son's heart. The swiftness of the girls shield charm surprised her, halting her torrential downpour of spells as the pair drew up level in the magic torn air.

"You have a lot of nerve challenging me," spat Ginny, as they began to circle.

"I'm fighting for my family," shrieked Syrena, remorse evident in her tone, "The same as you."

Something akin to understanding flitted through Ginny, but then it was gone and they were duelling in earnest. Ginny duelled to kill, unleashing her most formidable spells upon the younger girl and was surprised to find that whilst Syrena fought with a great deal of skill, she fought to incapacitate and not to murder. Throughout the duel, not a single unforgivable escaped the younger girl's lips, whilst multiple _Avada Kedavra's_ and _Crucio's_ spilled forth from Ginny herself.

An opportunity struck, and Ginny slashed her wand through the air, and to an unseen observer it with appear that Syrena should be struck dead in an instant. But the jet of light that struck her was not green; rather it was a burnt orange, an _impedimenta_ that sent her flying of her broomstick and crashing into the still waters of the lake with a loud splash.

The quality of mercy is not something that Ginny would have normally exercised in such situations and as she sped off into the air to engage the next death eater, she prayed fervently that she would not regret her actions.

(*)(*)(*)

Molly Weasley whirled on her feet, cursing her aching bones as she dispatched of Elena Avery, the last of Bellatrix's handmaidens, feeling a delighted glee fill her body as the younger woman was flung through a window in a shower of glass before falling to the ground five storeys below.

The Weasley matriarch had encountered the dark witch duelling her granddaughter Roxanne and it had been obvious from the start that Roxy lacked the power to defeat a witch as dark as Elena Avery. She had quickly stepped in, her wand spitting lethal curses whilst her granddaughter smiled at her gratefully and turned to face one of the younger death eaters.

Elena had been powerful, that there was no denying. But Molly was the only witch that Bellatrix herself had ever feared, there was a great reservoir of magical energy within the elderly witch and combined with the bone-deep urge to protect her loved ones by any means necessary, she was nigh on undefeatable.

She could hear them though; the laments of her fallen children as they danced around the edges of her vision, harshly and cruelly spurring her on to avenge their deaths. She wondered if they would ever be silent, the voices in her head . . . for that was what they were, voices and hallucinations. Fred, Ron, Angelina, Percy's girls; they were all dead, Cass' potions helped clear her mind somewhat, and she knew enough to know that they were gone. That it was just her mind playing tricks on her. She longed for them to leave her in peace, for them to no longer haunt her with her failures.

But at the same time, she never wanted them to leave. She loved them and she had lost them, but now she had been given another chance to see them . . . she couldn't lose them again.

Molly was caught off guard by the curse that came flying her way, a savage jet of icy blue light that froze the air around it. Her shield charm was up in an instant, the force of the curse enough to knock her off her feet. Gingerly, she rose anew, her back aching dully from the fall. The icy hue faded, replaced with the sight of a stern, disapproving young man whose hair burned a fiery Weasley red.

"Percy," she stammered in shock, her voice choked with emotion.

"You," he spat harshly, before letting fly his next curse, "You BITCH!"

Molly swept her wand through the air to shield herself from his attack, tears breaking across her savagely self-clawed face, fighting to defend and not to attack.

"I didn't know Percy," wept Molly, "I swear . . . I didn't know they were yours."

"You killed my daughters," he snarled ferociously, "You murdered my girls." Despite speaking, his curses never stopped flowing, a fatal rain of harsh colours erupting from his wand as he bore down on her.

"You turned on us," shrieked Molly, finally starting to fight back, "You betrayed us . . . for power! Ron and Fred died for our course! George lost his wife! Bill will never walk again! And were where you? You sided with _him!_"

"Is that what you think of me?" Percy faltered for a moment before resuming his assault, "I took the mark for the sake of my daughters you self-righteous cow! I became a death eater to save my family."

"You know nothing of family," bellowed Molly, her voice thick with rage and grief. Her _incisura_ narrowly missed his arm.

"Audrey had just given birth to Molly when the Dark Lord attacked Hogwarts the first time!" Percy yelled, "If I joined the rest of you, where would that leave them? I chose to fight for something I didn't believe in to protect my girls, and when you lost my girls didn't have to go into hiding. They got normal live. And you! You who spouts the very gospel of how important a family should be! YOU TOOK MY GIRLS FROM ME!"

"Molly," whispered the Weasley matriarch . . ._ he named her after me._

When Percy threw his next killing curse, Molly Weasley didn't raise her wand to defend herself.

(*)(*)(*)

"Andromeda?" Victoire called out curiously as she flourished her wand with a graceful lethality, unleashing a fervent storm of rapidly conjured knives into the grounds below, making sure that they found their mark, imbedding themselves into the calf of an assaulting giant.

"Victoire child," said her fiancé's grandmother in a voice rife with concern, "I did not think to see you here."

"Teddy's here," said Victoire, her voice anguished, "I couldn't stand not knowing."

"And your son?" Andromeda raised her eyebrow, her wand focused into the grounds below. She did not like the situation with her future granddaughter-in-law one bit, it reminded her too painfully of her last conversation with Tonks.

"He's with my parents," she said, "They'll look after him."

A harsh cackling filled the air before Andromeda could respond, sending icy shivers down their backs as whirling both witches found themselves confronted by the Bellatix Lestrange.

"You should be more less concerned about the puppy and more concerned about yourself pretty," laughed Bellatrix, her wand pointed directly at the blonde. Victoire tensed, the words of a dark curse on the tip of her tongue when Andromeda moved with a speed and precision that defied her age, a streak of pale blue light hurtling from her wand and striking her sister's hastily erected shield charm hard enough to send cracks spiralling across the translucent barrier. Bellatrix's laughter died to be replaced with a furious snarl.

"Go child and find Teddy," said Andromeda in a firm voice, "I will take her." Victoire looked torn for a moment, before a sudden glare from the widowed Tonks made up her mind and she took off into the castle.

"Does my baby sister want to play?" sneered Bellatrix, her eyes glistening with madness.

"No," snarled Andromeda in response, her eyes dancing with anger as she hurled a second stream of blue light at her deranged sister, succeeding in shattering the fragmented shield charm, "She does not want to _play."_

"Have it your way then 'Dromeda," spat Bellatrix and their duel began in earnest.

"_**Sisters," said Bellatrix as she held her baby sisters, "Till the end."**_

"_**Till the end," said Narcissa, her sleek blonde hair stark in contrast to the black and brown of her elder sisters. **_

But she had killed Narcissa, hadn't she? She had killed her baby sister, the one who had always stood at her side through everything. It was her fault though, 'Cissa betrayed her for a mudblood. She turned on Bellatrix first. Did that not negate their oath?

Bellatrix thought so, but the image of Narcissa falling as if in slow motion, the killing curse having taken her in the shoulder, was still one of the few things that haunted her.

"_**You can never tell anyone," cried Bellatrix, scrubbing her skin in the steaming bathwater, her sisters on either side, both looking lost on what to do. **_

"_**Bella, we have to tell someone," said Andromeda gently, "Mother will know what to do."**_

"_**You can't tell her Andy, you both can never tell anyone," Bellatrix was in tears now, "Promise me that nobody will ever know."**_

"_**Bella," said 'Cissa quietly, "Bella please. You can't go through something like this alone."**_

"_**I'm not alone," said Bella, "I have my sisters."**_

_**The girls looked at each other and nodded in resignation, "We promise Bella . . . We'll take your secret to the grave."**_

They duelled fiercely, whilst all the while Bellatrix was haunted by the memories of her past.

"_**You betrayed me Andromeda!" shrieked Bellatrix, "For a mudblood! After what that muggle did to me!"**_

"_**Ted Tonks is not the man who hurt you Bella," said Andy, trying to placate her sister, "You can't judge their entire kind for the sins of one sick bastard."**_

"_**They're all the same," screamed the elder sister, "They're all the fucking same. Filthy mudbloods and muggle scum, have you forgotten what he did to me."**_

"_**I did not forget," said Andromeda, her eyes flashing with anger, "It is you who has forgotten who it was that gave you your revenge."**_

"_**Andy," Bellatrix pleaded, "Don't turn your back on us."**_

The jet of green light struck the Black Sister in her abdomen, and she fell, with the same eerie, lilting grace as Narcissa.

"_**Sister's Bellatrix," said Narcissa, her body wracked with the aftermath of the cruciatus curse, "You . . . promised."**_

"_**That was before the two of you betrayed me! For muggle filth! Have you both forgotten what that scum did to me!" Bellatrix screeched, her grip on sanity tedious at best. **_

"_**We didn't forget," said Narcissa, her body shivering on the ground, "But we both did what we did for love . . . I for my son's happiness, Andromeda for her own."**_

"_**Traitors! Filth! You are supposed to be Blacks!" spat Bellatrix.**_

"_**We were supposed to be sisters," said Narcissa sadly, drawing herself to her feet and stumbling to her chambers.**_

"I'm sorry Andy," said Bellatrix, before turning back to the battle, the last of the Sisters Black.

(*)(*)(*)

James ducked as a killing curse shot over his head, reflexively hurling his own jet of green light at the approaching death eater, catching the dark robed man in the chest and sending him crashing to the ground. Above him, dragons roared as they clashed in mortal combat, their burning blood falling like rain over the battlefield. The distant bellows of giants echoed through the air, louder than the screams of the dying and the distinct sound of duelling.

There was a great whoosh of wind behind him, and he spun on his heels to confront whatever malign curse was being hurled his way. His face paled as he set eyes on his foe, one of Voldemort's dark dragons had landed on the ground and was prowling towards him. It was huge, its head alone was larger than him and its blood red eyes screamed with bloodlust and savagery as it approached. The beast's scales were black as the abyss, scorched and cracking as molten blood seeped from a single gash across its feral snout. Steely spikes ran down its back, its tail ended in a spiny thicket of dangerously jagged spines.

"Fuck," he mutter under his breath before drawing the Sword of Gryffindor, which Teddy had presented him with before tearing off after Victoire, in his free hand and advancing on the treacherous beast, his wand sparking as he let fly a hail of _conjunctivitis _curses at the reptilian eyes. In response the dragon roared loud enough to make him flinch, his eyes widening as he noticed the glowing heat at the back of its gaping maw.

He leapt to his left, barely escaping the torrent of dragon-fire that spilled from the creature's jaws and singing his hair in the process. Taking advantage of the dragon's momentary distraction, he flung himself forward and brought down the sword in a gleaming arc of silver, slashing open the dragon's left foreleg. Ducking beneath the dragon, he brought the sword up in sharp upwards stab, burying it in the belly of the beast. Drawing away quickly he rolled to out from under the dragon, rushing backwards to avoid the swipe of its hooked claws.

All he seemed to have done though was piss it off, and lose his weapon. The ruby crusted hilt of the sword seemed to wink at him tantalisingly from its sheath in the dragon's stomach, and he curses seemed to glance of its inky scales. Running out of options, he flung his dagger through the air, feeling a grim satisfaction as it buried itself in the dragon's right eye in a gout of aqueous matter and blood. Still the furious dragon advanced on him, seemingly amused that he was now weaponless and backed into a corner.

Its spiked tail came whirling towards him in a whip like movement, and James Sirius Potter closed his eyes in anticipation of blinding pain.

"NO! JAMES!" he heard the scream as someone flung themselves against him, their body freezing against his as the tail slammed into his human shield, sending them both careening across the lawns towards the great oak tree which stood sentinel beside the lake. Blood soaked into his clothing as his eyes flickered open, quickly filling with horror at the sight before him.

Clinging to him with her rapidly loosening fingers, her clothing soaked through with her own blood, three gaping holes punched through her body, her aqua eyes fighting to stay open as she drew harsh, ragged breaths, was the dying body of Syrena Zabini.

(*)(*)(*)

The entire castle raged as two armies clashed, spells lighting the sky and causing the air to crackle with barely controlled energy as Harry and his daughter made their way to the stone gargoyle which guarded the headmaster's office. He could see that she would rather be fighting than accompanying him, battling alongside her lover and brothers as they bought him time to find this _secret _horcrux. But he knew that she understood he would need help, and she was as determined as any of them to finally end this forsaken war.

The stone gargoyle seemed to glare at them petulantly when the two Potter's finally reached the office and it was with a lingering sense of dread that they realized that neither of them knew the password. Under Dumbledore the statue had made use of a number of sweets, both muggle and magical. According to Ginny, Snape had used the names of various complicated and little known potions. And Mcgonagall had been known to think of the most random, bewildering passwords that I had ever come across. Needless to say, Harry had no idea whatsoever as to what Umbridge would have used to guard her office.

"Confringo," said Lily calmly, when she noted her father's expression and decided to speed the process up significantly. The gargoyle widened its stone eyes for a fraction of a second before being blasted to smithereens, covering them both in dust and chips of granite. Harry looked at his daughter with widened eyes for a minute before grabbing her by her arm and dragging her up the spiral staircase, hastily erecting a few wards across the now unguarded entrance to discourage death eaters from following.

"Ah Potter," drawled Severus Snape, "Have you finally decided to grace us with your presence?" His greasy black hair hung like a curtain over his sallow skin, hooked nose and loathing sneer giving him his usual look of disdainful hatred.

"Severus," barked Mcgonagall from her frame, "There is a war going on out there; surely you recall what happened at the last Battle of Hogwarts?"

"For the love of Merlin," snapped Lily coldly, her father placing a restraining hand on her shoulder as she began building up a head of steam, a tirade which Harry was sure would have Snape and Mcgonagall running for cover.

"Enough," said Albus Dumbledore, and even though he was but a portrait, little more than an imprint of the man he had once been, the room echoed with the power and majesty of his voice. Then the familiar twinkle was in his eye as the room fell silent, and he turned to look at the boy-who lived, a sad smile on his face.

"Is it true?" asked Harry, "Is there another Horcrux?"

"Yes," said Snape snidely, "There is one more, a horcrux that even the Dark Lord is not aware of."

"How is that even possible?" asked Lily, her eyes harder than chips of flint. A ring glinted on her left ring finger; Harry shook his head at this new development. He resigned himself to it, his daughter had braved trials he could scarce comprehend alongside Scorpius for the past six weeks – obviously that would have brought them closer together.

"Voldemort created a seven part soul," began Dumbledore, his face unusually grave, "but the night he tried to kill you Harry, that night in Godric's Hollow when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the killing curse rebounded and shattered the Dark Lord. Love, that most ancient power which he knows nothing off was what broke him. But in doing so, a fragment of Voldemort's soul was blasted from the mangled whole that he kept within his own body at the time. That tortured fragment latched itself onto the only living soul left in that home."

Lily bit back a gasp as she realised what Dumbledore was implying, the old man having fallen silent for a time. Her father looked at the portraits, his expression stony, ignoring Minerva's sympathetic glances as Severus' uncomfortable attempt at pity.

"Part of Voldemort lived inside you Potter," said the former head of Slytherin, when Dumbledore still seemed unable to continue, "It is that which has given you the parseltongue gene, a connection the other fragments of the Dark Lord's soul. It is that fragment of soul, tortured and unmissed by him that tethers him to life. And whilst it remains, whilst it was protected by you, Lord Voldemort cannot die."

"_Was protected by me?"_ spat Harry angrily, coming to the painfully obvious conclusion that Dumbledore had known, all these years that in the end he would die. That he had been raised as a pig for slaughter at the appropriate moment. It was sickening, that the man whom he had had absolute trust in could be so manipulatively cunning, moving people around as if they were chess pieces. But it was the truth, secrets and lies, which was who Dumbledore was. Harry had just been to blinded by his own devotion in the man to see it previously.

"Harry," said Minerva, her voice breaking, "Life has a will of its own, which is why Horcruxes are often made from inanimate objects. The truth of the matter is that you are no longer a Horcrux, the soul has passed on."

"Your wife Ginevra, was possessed by a Horcrux in her first year," said Dumbledore before either Potter could react, "It made her perfect carrier for that broken fragment of soul, the perfect medium of finding a new host."

"No," Harry sounded broken, completely shattered, his own life he would give in a heartbeat to end this war but what they were suggesting . . . No.

"Only Voldemort can destroy the last horcrux Potter," said Snape, and for once he sounded heartfelt and sincere, "It is imperative."

"Who is it?" asked Harry through gritted teeth, tears in his closed eyes.

"The child already knows Harry," said Dumbledore, his voice gently and sorrowful.

"WHO IS THE LAST HORCRUX? WHICH ONE OF MY CHILDREN DO YOU EXPECT ME TO WATCH DIE?" screamed Harry, in his rage hurling a cruciatus directly at his former headmaster, spitting bitterly when the frame seemed to survive the curse unharmed.

"I am," said Lily Luna Potter quietly, "I am the last Horcrux."

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: You may now react.

Seriously, react . . . and _**review **_**. . .**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

**I Give My All For You**

Lily Potter walked out of the headmaster's office quietly, scarcely noting how silent the war-strewn castle had fallen. Her father was still in the office, immobilised to keep from trying to stop her, Lily hastily threw up a few wards around the doorway to keep him safe until her charm wore off. He had been hysterical; she had never seen her father so unhinged, hurling curse after curse at the former headmaster, not caring that they had no effect against the enchanted portrait. In the end, she had hit him with her strongest immobilizing charm, kissed him lightly on his cheek in farewell and walked away. She knew what she had to do.

It had been clear to her that she was the horcrux from the second it had been mentioned that her mother was made an unwilling medium of transport for the shattered soul, able to carry it from her husband into her children. There was no way it could be James, he alone of the Potter children had not inherited the ability to speak Parseltongue. That left Albus and her, but she knew deep down that it was her. It was _her _destiny to walk calmly into deaths waiting arms, taking with her The Dark Lords final link to life. Ma

It made sense, why she had felt as if she had been stabbed when the diadem was destroyed. She had felt its pain, felt her dagger penetrate the dark object through the unholy connection forged between them, the fragments of Voldemort's soul binding them together. It had been the same during her fight with Nagini, when her brother's _incisura_ had decapitated it; she had been possessed with the urge to avenge the serpent. Lily had attributed it to having Nagini's corrupting venom surging through her veins but she had been wrong again . . . the piece of Voldemort that was in her had used her weakened state to try and seize control. And she remembered the day Scorpius and Cassandra arrived at Grimmauld Place so vividly, even though that night had occurred twelve years ago. She remembered the night because it was the only night in her life she had woken up screaming in pain . . . hadn't that been the night her father had disposed of the Horcrux recovered by Hermione and Draco?

Abruptly she paused, finally noticing the sombre atmosphere surrounding the castle. Where was everyone? Were they all dead? No, it couldn't be. Dimly she could make out voices echoing from a few floors above, wordlessly and silently she began making her way to what she now realised was the Hospital Wing. She had to say her goodbyes . . . but she couldn't truly bid them farewell, they would stop her. But she was a Gryffindor and a Potter, both by blood, and she would not shirk this final duty, she would take this cold-blooded walk to her own death with all the bravery she had.

It was not the bravery that her family was known for, the noble courage that had driven her paternal grandparents to throw themselves in front of The Dark Lord's wand to save their son, the boldness that had led her Uncle Fred to his own demise at the last Battle of Hogwarts, or even the selfless, stubborn courage that had possessed her Uncle Ron to give his life for Hermione Malfoy. This was a different type of bravery altogether, to sacrifice her own life so that Voldemort could finally die. To take his killing curse without raising a hand to defend herself, knowing she would cause her parents and brothers unimaginable grief. And Scorpius . . . at least she had had the opportunity to know his love before they were savagely torn from each other.

A cold, high voice tore through the air, the threat in his tone more dangerous than the most deadly curse. It snapped Lily from her reverie as she neared the hospital wing were it seemed the Order had congregated, and she stilled, staring wildly for the source of the malicious voice.

"You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery and power."

"Yet you have sustained losses. If you continue to resist, you will die . . . every last one of you who stands against me shall perish. Man, woman and child, you shall die, a waste of magical blood. But I am merciful. My forces have retreated, they have returned to my side. I give to you an hour, an hour to decide your faith."

"Dispose of your dead with what dignity they can be afforded. Treat your injured. But now, hear my words."

"Give me the Potters. Give me the Malfoys. Give me the Weasleys. I shall await you all in the Forbidden Forest for one hour. If, at the end of this hour you have not given yourselves up then I shall enter the battle myself and I shall punish every man, every woman and every child who had dared stand against me."

"You have one hour."

Lily felt numb. _Sustained Losses?_ How many had died? She was running, picking up speed as she rushed to the Hospital Wing, a strange mantra playing in her mind as she ran.

_Not my brothers. Not Scorpius. Not Cass. Not my brothers. Not Scor. Not Cass. Not my brothers. Not Scor . . ._

The Hospital Wing was packed with people, there were no free beds, people were sharing or else being treated upon the floor. The survivors clustered together in groups, their arms around each other's necks. Her heart seemed to lighten considerably when she saw the flash of platinum ringlets as Cass shoved passed her, not seeming to notice who she had pushed aside as she began tending to a profusely bleeding Sara Macmillion. Ginny and Hermione were moving from bed to bed as well, leading a small team of helpers as they tended to the wounded around them.

The dead lay against the far end of the wall, lying prone upon the white sheets spread across the floor. She stepped forward, freezing when she heard a familiar shriek of anguish. Her eldest cousin, Victoire, screaming in pain as hot tears flowed down her face, she was kneeling beside the dead.

_Not Teddy. Merlin Please. Not Teddy._

When she got closer, her heart seemed to drop from her chest. Too her relief, it wasn't Teddy lying lifeless and broken upon the floor. But she still felt as if someone had stabbed her in the gut and then twisted the knife, the sight before her was too awful for her to comprehend. She couldn't breathe, seeming instead to reel away from the tragedy before her.

Altair and Dominique; pale and peaceful looking, apparently asleep upon the pure white linen of the strewn sheets, their fingers still stiffening against each other in the ghostly image of them holding hands. Beside them, Victoire was clinging onto her grey-haired fiancé for dear life, whilst harsh cries wracked her body. Teddy looked none the better, he seemed to have aged twenty years, grey hair and pale green eyes, his skin turning sallow and thin as his grief overwhelmed his control. He looked up at her, a look of obvious relief in his eyes to see her alive, and mouthed, "Bellatrix," before turning back to his sister-in-law and her lover. His hand was outstretched behind him, grasping the still wrist of his grandmother Andromeda. In that moment Lily felt nothing but sympathy for her eldest female cousin, who had lost both her siblings within a few hours of each other.

She turned away, not wanting to see who else had died and felt a great weight lift of her shoulders at the twin mops of gravity defying raven hair kneeling together near another corpse. Her brothers, all three of them were alive . . . she never wanted to feel what Victoire must be feeling, and it hurt her even more deeply to know that she would be making them all feel that same pain today. James' eyes were bloodshot and red, his clothing crusted with dried blood, Albus holding him in a tight embrace whilst he cried. Syrena Zabini lay before them, her body bruised and battered, gaping holes punched through her pelvis. Lily knelt beside her brothers, looking questioningly at Albus as she laid a comforting hand on James' shoulder.

"She died for him," Albus whispered, in a voice so soft that she barely heard it, "A dragon attacked him and she threw herself in the way." Lily stared in disbelief, Syrena had betrayed them and yet she had given her life for James. She found the hatred to the older girl slip away, her passing had definitely not been easy and Lily would forever be grateful to her for her brother's life.

"Who else?" she asked, dreading the answer but needing to know.

"Grandma," said Albus in a thick voice, glancing up towards where the Weasley's were obscuring the body on the floor. Uncle George was kneeling at the head, shocked disbelief etched on his face; Grandpa Arthur was lying across his wife's chest, his body shaking; Uncle Charlie stroking his father's back whilst tears cascaded down his cheeks. Lily watched as Roxanne joined them, flinging herself onto Lysander as they both burst into tears; whilst Fred II turned and angrily smashed his fist against the wall till his knuckles bled. Charlie and George kept looking up at Victoire, grieving for their niece. After a quick nod, George stood up and walked towards her, putting a comforting arm around her

She let go of the breath she had not been aware that she had been holding when she saw his platinum hair pushing its way through the milling crowd, levitating a set of newly transfigured hospital beds and setting them down wherever there was room. He looked tired and drained, blood trickling down his cheek from a deep gash. Wordlessly, she threw herself into his arms.

"Scor," she felt tears brim in her eyes as she inhaled his familiar scent, feeling safe in his strong arms as they wrapped around her, all the while drowning her in guilt that she was going to leave him. Over his shoulder, she could just make out her Aunt Luna being carried into the room by Draco Malfoy, still alive but knocked unconscious. The older Malfoy sported a black eye, a split lip, and a deep gash across his shoulder, his shirt was in tatters – it seemed he had taken a _Sectumsempra_ curse and had barely managed to shield his skin from it.

"Lily," he breathed, pulling her in as close as he could, "I was so worried about you."

"I'm fine Scor," she lied, clenching her eyes shut to hide her pain.

"Is it done Lily?" she heard her brother's voice, harsh and hardened by grief. Breaking away from Scorpius she turned to look at James, he looked like a fighter who had been to hell and back. Tearstains tracked his bloody face, his clothes were ripped and torn in a dozen places, his hazel eyes were red and bloodshot and he was breathing in short, raspy breaths. From the way he cradled his chest with his free hand, she could tell he had a few broken ribs.

"I know what the Horcrux is Jay," she said softly, "Can we talk?"

He nodded and walked for the door at her side; Lily turned and shook her head when Scorpius made to follow. It was bad enough that she was going to tell her brother; she couldn't tell _him_ as well.

"Where's dad?" asked James as soon as they were out of earshot, fear evident in his tone.

"Alive," she responded, "He's in the Headmaster's office."

"Why?"

"He would try to stop me," she said, averting her gaze.

"What are you talking about Lily," he said, reaching up to place his hand on her shoulder.

"When dad survived the killing curse . . . when he was one . . . he . . . Voldemort's soul tore apart and a part of it entered dad," Lily managed to choke out the words.

"Dad is the horcrux?" James looked horrified, shaking his head in disbelief.

"No. The soul . . . he had children, the soul found a new host," she closed her eyes to keep the tears from falling. She was brave but this was too much dammit, the anguish in her brother's eyes as her meaning sank in.

"No!" James said, "No . . . You're my sister . . . I can't lose . . . No we'll find another way."

"James!" she said softly, "This is the only way. I need to do this."

"Lily please," there was a sense of defeat in his voice. James found himself in a strange place. He had never been against taking risks and making necessary sacrifices but it suddenly felt very different when the sacrifice was his sister. The war had raged for over twenty years, so many good people were dead. If Lily had the chance to end it, if she could end him . . . he couldn't let his love for her get in the way. The choice between doing what is right and doing what is easy is the hardest choice you will ever make; James Potter learnt that today.

"I love you baby sister," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead and pulling her in for a tight hug. _A final hug_.

"I love you to big brother," she murmured, before breaking away from him and starting to walk away.

She was almost at the end of the corridor when she turned her head over her shoulder and spoke one final time . . .

"Make sure you murder that mother-fucker for me Jay," she said, forcing a smile to her face before disappearing around the corner.

(*)(*)(*)

A swarm of Dementors were gliding amongst the trees; she could feel their chill and hear their ragged breaths. She had no strength to conjure her patronus, the images of Molly, Altair, Louis and Dominique, even Syrena haunting her and keeping her happy memories far from the surface. Lily had no idea if she would be able to pass through the forest safely, she could barely control her own trembling. Every second she breathed, the smell of blood and grass, the cool war-torn air, was so precious, so important. People wasted their lives, spending years and years to waste whilst she savoured every second, clinging to each morsel of time as she approached the inevitable.

Her engagement ring seemed to glimmer brightly as she entered the forest, suddenly flashing brightly and releasing the stored energy of the oasis waters in a single blast of light. Lily froze for a moment, not believing her eyes, hearing the slight movements around him that suggested frail bodies shifting their footing on the earthy, leaf-strewn ground. It was ancient magic, she remembered, nature itself was granting her a final shield. The waters of the Oasis are powerful . . . strong beyond all imagining.

They were neither ghost nor truly flesh; she could see that easily enough. They appeared as memories made solid, less more than a spirit and yet a far cry from the living. They stood around her, each one wearing a smile.

Grandma Molly was younger than Lily had ever seen her in life, her face unmarred by her insanity, her grey hair burning a fiery red. There was not a single wrinkle on her smooth skin; she looked barely a day over thirty. She held her arms out warmly, as if welcoming her.

Fred Weasley stood beside his mother, the spitting image of her uncle George, his twin. His smile was the widest of them all, a mischievous grin that she was so accustomed to seeing on Albus and Fred II. He raised an eyebrow teasingly and gave her a wink, shaking his head at her confused expression.

Louis looked happy to be amongst his family, his drawn face was full of energy and mirth, two things he had missed for so long. His blue eyes sparkled in the evening sunlight, his boyish nature highlighted by the curiosity which flowed from him like a pheromone.

Dominique loped with a graceful elegance she had rarely possessed in life, her skin unmarred by the werewolf bites which had clung against her throat and shoulders. Her hands were in her pockets, a grin on her face.

"You've been so brave," Lily's grandmother said to her.

"You're nearly there kid," said Fred, "Very close. . . We are so proud of you."

"Does it hurt?" Lily asked, the childish question escaping her lips before she could reconsider.

"Dying?" said Dominique, "Painless. There are worse ways to die than the Avada."

"It will be quick," said Fred.

"None of you should be dead . . . I called the Order to arms for this battle," said Lily guiltily, "I . . . Louis so soon after you got your magic back . . . Dominique . . . You never got to meet Remy."

"Neither will you," interrupted Dominique, "But his mother and father will no doubt tell him of his brave aunts and uncles who died to keep him safe."

"I died on my own terms Lily," smiled Louis, "I hope mum will understand . . . I was trying to make a world where she could live a happier life, mum and Vic and Remy."

"You'll stay with me then?" she asked cautiously.

"Until the very end," said Molly with a reassuring smile.

(*)(*)(*)

"I was . . . it seems wrong," said Voldemort as he fingered his wand.

"You weren't Riddle," said Lily, stepping from the trees into the clearing.

Lily said it as loudly and with as much force as she could, she did not want to sound afraid. Beside her; Molly, Fred, Dominique and Louis faded away into nothingness, the power in her ring finally breaking before the Dark Lord.

Bellatrix was on her feet in an instant, looking eagerly from Lily to Voldemort, her breast heaving. The illusion of serenity seemed to shatter, the giants and dark dragons roared, the death eaters cried out.

Lily felt her wand tucked into her belt but she made no move to draw it. Still Lily and the Dark Lord stared each other down, a subtle battle of Legilimency that neither seemed willing to break.

"Lily Potter," he said, very softly, cold as ice, "The daughter of the boy-who-lived."

None of the death eaters moved. They were waiting for their Lord to make his move. Bellatrix was panting, Percy Weasley seemed uncomfortable yet uncaring and Lily thought inexplicably of Scorpius, the feel of his lips and the softness of his hair, the feeling of his skin against hers.

Voldemort raised his wand, tilting his head to one side like a curious child. Lily glared defiantly into the red eyes, while she still could, before she betrayed fear.

He saw the mouth move and the flash of green light erupt from his wand. . .

They say your entire life flashes before your eyes before you die. For Lily, only one memory filled her as the killing curse flooded her vision . . .

A pair of brooding, stormy grey eyes flecked through with mercurial silver. . .

And then everything was gone.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

**Call Me Home**

She lay face down, listening to the silence. She was perfectly alone, secure in the knowledge that nobody was watching. How could they, nobody else was in the general vicinity. She was not completely certain that she was there herself.

A long time later, or perhaps after no time at all, it came to her that she must exist as more than some vague, disembodied thought or abstract memory because she was definitely lying on a surface of some kind. Therefore she could come to the conclusion that she was in possession of a sense of touch, and that by extension; the surface she was lying against must exist too. She wondered that if, seeing as how she could feel, would he be able to see? By opening them, she discovered that her eyes still functioned perfectly.

She lay in a bright mist, but it was not like any form of mist he had ever experienced before. It did not seem to hide his surroundings, rather his surroundings seemed to be composed of the cloudy vapour, or perhaps the fog was slowly moulding itself into his new environment. The floor on which she lay was white, neither warm nor cold; but simply there, a glassy expanse that seemed to flow on forever.

She slowly drew herself to her feet, her body appearing remarkably unscathed. Tenderly she stroked at her lower back and was unsurprised to find the scar she had received in the catacombs gone. She felt her abdomen, duly noting that the scars marking her battle with Nagini had vanished as well. She became aware of a dull throbbing between her breasts, at the exact point where the killing curse had struck. Glancing down, she found herself staring at a spidery cut in the shape of a crescent moon. It caused her to shrug; something told her that the new blemish was off little consequence in the grand scheme of things.

Then a noise reached her through the unformed nothingness that surrounded her; a small thumping of something that flapped and struggled. It was a pitiful noise, yet also slightly indecent and vulgar. She had an uncomfortable feeling that she was eavesdropping on something shameful and dirty.

Lily turned slowly on the spot, and her surroundings seemed to invent themselves before her eyes. A wide open meadow, soft and grassy unfurled itself as the white vapour dissipated to show off a clear blue sky. It was empty, she was alone as she had first assumed. There was nothing in the general vicinity except for –

She recoiled, bile rearing in her stomach as revulsion took hold of her. She had spotted the creature that was making the noises. It had the form of a small, naked chid, curled on the ground in a foetal position, its skin bloody and raw as if flayed alive and then soaked in acid. It lay shuddering, abandoned amidst the grass and dandelions, unwanted and struggling to draw breath. She found that she was not afraid of it; rather she was afraid for it. It lay there, small and fragile and wounded beyond mortal comprehension, and she realised that she did not want to approach it. Nevertheless she drew nearer, ready to jump back at any moment. Soon enough she stood near enough to touch it but found she could not stomach the thought of laying a finger upon its tortured flesh. Lily felt cowardly, she ought to take it and comfort it, yet the creature repulse her.

"You cannot help."

She spun around, her eyes widening at the red-haired man who approached her. Ron Weasley walked with an easy grace he had never attained in life, clad in bottle green robes with his arms outstretched as if to embrace her.

"Lily. You brave, wonderful girl," he smiled in a manner she had never seen before, bright and ripe with happiness, "Let us walk."

Stunned, she followed him, drinking in the sight of her least favourite uncle, (with the obvious exception of Percy, whom she had never known). His red hair burned liked fire in the bright sunlight, his freckled skin beaming. Finally the strange pair found themselves beside a babbling brook, near which stood a small circle of large stones. Ron sat on one, and beckoned for her to take a seat. Hesitantly she sat, before blurting out the question that had been plaguing her mind since first laying eyes on him in this strange realm.

"But you're dead," said Lily.

"That is rather obvious," he responded dryly.

"So I'm dead too?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Oh yes," said Ron, now smiling more broadly, "Welcome to the afterlife."

They looked at each other; her uncle was still beaming as if Christmas had come early. She began to feel a shade uncomfortable.

"I do hope the ferret-spawn is suffering down below," chirped Ron happily, "He did seem to _love _you an awful lot." His niece immediately saw red.

"You're glad I'm dead because it would hurt Scorpius?" spat Lily incredulously, rising to her feet.

"Of course I am. I do admit that you weren't the one I was hoping for though. I'm waiting for Hermione you see. She may be married to Malfoy, but you know the law: Till death do us part and all that rubbish. She and I will be together forever in this Garden of Eden," he rambled gleefully.

"You're mad," said Lily, "You're absolutely insane."

"You're dead," shrugged Ron, "You're stuck here too."

"That does not mean," snarled Lily, "that I have to be stuck with you." She began to walk away only to find that he had her wrist captured in an iron grip. "Let go of me," she snapped.

"Let go of her," said a new voice, a sweet melodious voice that Lily had never heard before as a woman seemed to materialize from thin air, dressed in flowing robes of red velvet, trimmed in golden thread. A Queen of Gryffindor.

"You!" scowled Ron, angrily getting to his feet.

"Me," said the woman, and with a flick of the wrist Ron was hurtling through the air, quickly enveloped by the white fog. The woman slowly took a seat on the ground, gesturing for Lily to join her as she lay back against one of the smooth stones.

"The Caonic Shi," said the woman warmly, her voice reminding Lily of home and family, "Some spirits never can let go of their hate and malice, even in death. It consumes them, oftentimes driving them to insanity. They make the meanest ghosts."

Her ruby red hair fell in a lustrous wave down her back, framing her pale face, drawing the attention to her emerald green eyes. Although dressed finely, as befit a medieval noblewoman, she carried herself with a casualness that bespoke a certain mischievous nature. Twinkling lights danced in her green eyes as she smiled at Lily.

"You're Lily Evans Potter," Lily suddenly blurted out as she finally recognized the woman from the old photo albums, "My grandmother."

"You've done our name so very proud Lily," said her paternal grandmother, "And to answer your earlier question, you are not yet dead my dear. On the whole, I don't think you really belong here yet."

"But . . ." Lily instinctively moved her hand towards the crescent scar, it tingled lightly under her touch. "I should have died . . . I didn't defend myself, I let him kill me!"

"That Lily," said Lily Evans, "is what makes all the difference in the world." Happiness seemed to radiate from her grandmother like light, a bright flame that refused to be dimmed. Lily doubted she had ever seen a woman seem so palpably content to be dead.

"Could you explain?" asked Lily.

"You are so much like me Lily," said Lily Evans, her smile never fading as she spoke, her emerald eyes alive with laughter, "We both were willing to die for the people we loved. We both gave our lives to grant them protection. And then isn't it obvious, why you are not yet truly dead?"

"I was a horcrux," said Lily, comprehension dawning, "I let him kill me. So the piece of his soul that was inside me . . ." Her grandmother nodded enthusiastically, urging her to go on, "Has it gone?"

"Yes darling," said Lily Evans, "Yes, that foul man destroyed his own last chance of survival. Like all tyrants, he is like a serpent that in its hunger consumes all around him till it exists in an empty void. And then when there is nought left to consume, it will swallow its own tail and begin devouring itself. Your soul, Lily flower, is now completely and utterly your own."

"But then . . ." Lily gazed into the meadow she had first arrived in, "What was that thing?"

"It is a creature beyond any help we could give," said her grandmother, for the first time showing a hint of anger in her voice as she referred to the repugnant child-like thing that she had seen, "It is what becomes of a soul that has been damaged beyond repair."

"That thing," Lily said in disbelief, "That thing is the piece of his soul that was inside me?"

"It is nothing compared to what the fragmented soul within his body looks like," said Lily Evans calmly, "The body that I hope will soon be left vacant after my bloodline finishes what I began."

"Dad told me the story once," said Lily curiously, "But he didn't want to go into detail, could you explain to me what happened that night in Godrics Hollow?"

Something akin to pain flitted across the older woman's features as she took a deep breath and began speaking.

"Peter Pettigrew, that filthy bastard, betrayed us too Voldemort after we made him our secret keeper. I would have preferred Sirius or Remus, but Padfoot was apparently too obvious and neither James nor I could bear having to put a target on his back. The same was true of Moony; he was operating in the heart of werewolf territory at the time because of Dumbledore's orders. We settled for Wormtail, and we paid dearly for our mistake."

"Voldemort came to my home that night, and James went to fend him off to give me time to escape with Harry. Had I not had my son to think off, I would have remained at my husband's side but I had to protect Harry. I ran to the nursery to get Harry and run, but he was already coming up the stairs. There was no time, I barricaded the door and waited for the inevitable."

There were tears in her eyes as she continued.

"That bastard blasted his way into the room, and offered me the chance to live. All I had to do was stand aside and let him murder my son. The thought alone was repulsive. How could he actually offer me that, I doubt he truly understood what love was or how strong a mother's love for her child could truly be. I cast myself in front of his killing curse, saving my son and invoking an ancient protection that kept him safe till he was seventeen years old. My son lived that night because of my sacrifice, and Voldemort's power was broken. It just goes to show, some things are worth dying for."

Lily wrapped her arms comfortingly around her grandmother, who was now crying freely, tears trickling down her freckled cheeks and soaking into her robes.

"But then, how did I survive his curse if nobody died for me?" asked Lily quietly, curious as to how she had been protected.

"In his arrogance, he took my sons blood into his own body, thinking that it would strengthen him," Lily started as she realised it was not her grandmother speaking, but rather a bespectacled man who approached her from behind, wielding the same dishevelled black hair as her father and brothers. Her paternal grandfather, James Potter, strode casually into the stony circle and knelt beside his wife and granddaughter. "He unknowingly strengthened the protection that my Lily invoked, guarding all in our bloodline from him. If any other wizard had hit you with that curse tonight, you with truly be joining us . . . but because it was he who struck you with the Avada, he only succeeded in hurting himself."

"That which Voldemort does not value, he does not take the time to comprehend. Of love and innocence he knows nothing. _Nothing_. That love and friendship have power far exceeding his own, beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth that he has never grasped," said Lily Evans, smiling at her husband.

"He's a fool then," agreed Lily, thinking of her own love for Scorpius, "But seeing as how I'm not really dead, how do I get back?"

"Lily," said James in a calm voice as he looked into his granddaughter's eyes, "You don't have to go back. That is your choice. But I would rather you return, it is our bloodline that must destroy him. You going back may be what finally finishes him."

"I am really sorry that I never got to really meet the two of you," said Lily with a watery smile, a tinge of pity in her eyes as she thought about their star crossed fates. Lily Evans seemed to realise what was going through her granddaughters mind and looked her firmly in the eye, identical shades of emerald meeting as James looked on.

"Do not pity the dead, Lily. Pity the living, and above all, pity those who have lived without love. James and I may not have had many years together on earth, but we knew love, and kindness and friendship. By returning you may be able to ensure that fewer families are torn apart, fewer souls are maimed and fewer lives are lost. I think that I can safely assume this means it is time for us to say goodbye for the present."

Lily smiled at her grandparents as she stood, waving somewhat sadly as she turned on her heel and began walking into the rapidly encroaching white mist.

"Time to go home," she whispered to herself, softly stepping into blinding light.

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: So it occurs to me that Avenging Angel is approaching its end, I think two more chapters and an Epilogue and it will be done. So I would like to inform you all about the latest multi-chapter next generation story I have begun working on, titled "The Good Son."

It is another war story, but unlike Avenging Angel it is Epilogue compliant. The storyline is that Albus Severus Potter goes to Hogwarts, becomes a Slytherin and becomes estranged from his family. Over time, he realises that prejudice still exists and he begins a movement to achieve equality for everyone. But he's fighting a growing addiction to dark magic and his new movement may soon turn him into everything his father once fought against. It isn't his fault, Harry Potter began ostracizing son the minute his tie became green rather than red. And what secret is Hermione hiding about her daughters parentage?

Pairings include: Albus/Cassie Malfoy; Draco/Hermione; Ron/Hermione; Harry/Ginny; Scorpius/Multiple; Teddy/Victoire; James/Alison Longbottom

Please do check it out.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty Five**

**The Avenging Angel**

She was laying face down again, she could smell the pungent aroma of decaying leaves and lichen-covered trees around her, the scent of the forest invading her nostrils. Every inch of her ached, the place between her breasts where the killing hat hit her felt like she had been hit with a blasting curse. She did not stir, opting to remain where she had fallen, her body twisted in an unnatural angle – taking in the soft gasps that filled the air before she felt herself levitate. She opened her eyes a millimetre, gazing at Voldemort through her lashes and noticed his wand trained on her, causing her to float ominously above the sky like a marionette, the death eaters falling into step behind him as he began the long march back to the castle.

She remained still, letting herself be carried, dimly aware that they were now crossing the stone bridge known as the viaduct; that they were approaching the main entrance into Hogwarts. Through her barely open eyes she made out the silhouettes of the castles defenders, exiting the castle to meet this final attack. The dementors flitted through the air above her, dragons and giants prowling behind as they approached, they could not hurt her now, the knowledge of her own survival burned within her heart, brighter than any patronus.

"Who is that?" she heard a voice, Scorpius, "Who's body is Voldemort carrying?" and in that moment she knew that he knew, that he could see her seemingly lifeless body and was hoping that his eyes were deceiving him. Hoping for someone to prove him wrong, her heart shattered at the pain she was causing him, her pain only numbing when she realised that it would soon be over.

"NO! LILY! NO!" Scorpius screamed, the anguish in his voice more terrible than anything Lily had ever felt in her life, daring a glance at him she fought the urge to run to him and comfort him. Teddy and James were both restraining him, keeping him from physically pouncing onto the Dark Lord in his anger, tears were streaming down her brothers' faces.

"Lily Potter is dead," said Voldemort, his voice magically amplified, "I bring you proof of Harry Potters cowardice, your so called beacon of hope remained in the castle whilst his daughter died for him. Who else must die before you learn the truth Harry? You cannot beat me!"

"The battle is won. You have lost many of your fighters. You are outnumbered. There must be no more war. Submit to my–."

"NO!"

The sound was all the more ghastly because she had never thought her mother could emit such a sound, not when her brothers had died, not when her mother had fallen . . . never before had her voice been so filled with grief and anger and despair. Lily heard another woman's harsh cackle, Bellatrix gloried in Ginevra's pain and a jolt of anger shot through her body as she heard the dark witch laugh – how dare she sound so joyous when she had put so many in the ground; Dominique . . . her own son, Altair . . . Andromeda, her last surviving sister.

Draco and George had their arms wrapped tightly around Harry, whose face was more furious than Lily had ever seen it, both men struggling to keep her father from attacking Voldemort. Behind them Hermione held Ginny, both woman crying silently, but Hermione still met Voldemorts gaze with a glare of defiance, enough to convince Lily that the Order was far from broken. To the left, she was stunned to see that Albus, Roxanne and Lysander were all struggling to hold Cassandra back, her face furious as she fought them to join Harry and Scorpius in their efforts to tear Voldemort apart.

"She beat you," screamed Harry finally breaking free from Draco and George and slashing his wand through the air. Had Lily not been immobilised in thin air by the levitation charm she would have broken her cover in reverence, for the first time in his life, Harry Potter cast an unforgivable, his killing curse whipping through the air, hastily deflected by Voldemort. But the die had been cast the Order surged forward, hate and determination etched on their features as wands were drawn and the battle began again in earnest.

Lily couldn't help the groan that escaped her lips as she hit the ground, the charm breaking as Voldemort rose to face his attackers, spiralling her wand in a discrete motion she covered herself with a disillusionment charm and disappeared from sight, pulling herself backwards into a ruined alcove to await her chance to strike.

"PERCY!" screamed Ginny, as she tore off after her brother, killing curses flying from her wand. Her father was duelling a dragon, slaying the beast with a single curse before whirling on another death eater, striking his victim would an _Avada Kedavra_ to the face before turning to duel former Slytherin Quidditch Captain – Marcus Flint. Lily's eyes widened, Harry was duelling to kill. Teddy and Victoire fought side by side, slowly giving ground under Bellatrix's assault, backing away into the castle. There was a flash of green light and a giant fell, struck in the vulnerable eye by Albus and James' combined killing curse.

"Did you miss me?" asked Lily, yanking Scorpius into the alcove as he darted passed and pressing her lips to his.

"Lily . . . how?" he broke away from her, his eyes widening in disbelief, "I saw your body . . ."

"I'll explain later Scor," she said, kissing him again, "Right now I have a date with old Voldy."

Nodding, Scorpius disillusioned them both, and together, they entered the battle field to track down the dark lord.

(*)(*)(*)

Teddy and Victoire slammed against the wall with two resounding thuds, the force of the blasting curse against their shield charms enough to send them flying through the air. Their opponent stalked towards them, dancing with glee as she raised her wand, laughing manically as she approached.

"Following in mummy and daddy's footsteps little Lupin?" she asked with a cackle.

"Go fuck yourself," spat Teddy, his spittle laced with red, as he reached for his wand. Bellatrix giggled, flicking her wand and disarming the couple simultaneously.

"Nymphie was screaming for mercy by the time I was done with her," laughed the eldest of the sister's Black, "How loudly will you scream mutt?" Before giving him the chance to respond she flicked her wand again, murmuring the curse like one would whisper a lover's name, "Crucio."

His screams filled the air, white hot knives stabbing his body again and again, whilst his veins rubbed together like sandpaper. His nerves were frayed by acid, piece by piece, whilst the scars on his back burned with a savage ferocity. He chanced a glance at Victoire and he felt relief fill his aching body, her fingers were twitching feebly, indicating she was still alive.

"Scream like your half-breed father," shrieked Bellatrix, "Beg for death like he did." Teddy shook his head stiffly as Bellatrix strengthened her cruciatus.

"They . . . died . . . heroes," he managed, whilst his eyes grew bloodshot and his mind screamed for an end to the pain, "Never . . . begged . . . bitch . . . like . . . you."

"Scum," she shrieked, breaking the curse and straddling his lap, flicking her wand to bind him against the ruined wall behind him as she drew her favourite knife. Ripping down the collar of his shirt, she began carving across his bare chest with a sick delight. _Freak_, she wrote it as an insult. He wore in as a badge of honour, spitting full in her face as she finished scarring him.

"Filthy hybrid mutt," she shrieked, drawing herself to her full height and wiping away the bloody spittle with her sleeve, "Avada Ked –" A jet of electric blue light slammed into her chest, sending her spiralling across the room and crashing to the ground.

"Stay the fuck away from my brother you whore!" snarled Cassandra Malfoy as she entered the room, her wand raised threateningly before her, the very air crackling with her rage and magic. If she was afraid she did not show it, her usually kind face was contorted with malice and fury as she advanced on her great-aunt. Vaguely from the corner of her eye she noticed Teddy muster a wandless patronus and send it darting into the castle.

"Oooh if it isn't Draco's little girl," giggled Bellatrix as she got to her feet, "I was planning on ending Andromeda's bloodline first, but I suppose you'll do."

"You. Will. Not. Harm. My. Family. Again," said Cassandra, each word punctuated with a blaze of light from her wand, her curses slamming against her great aunts shield charm. The power that was emanating from the collisions were powerful enough to give Bellatrix pause, her demented and haughty sneer fading to be replaced with a look of sheer hate. The girl radiated power the likes of which she had never seen, but she was sure she could overwhelm her; raw magic had nothing on her formidable skill.

"Avada Kedavra," snarled Cassandra, casting a roaring torrent of green light, which shattered upon Bellatrix's shield charm, the resounding explosion shattering ever window in the room. Curses were flying from both wands in earnest, striking each other in mid-air . . . but Cass was tiring quickly, she was pouring in too much energy into her attacks whilst Bellatrix remained stoically collected. The older witch seemed to realise this as she doubled her assault, and now Cassandra was forced on the defensive, barely having the time to shield herself let alone muster a counterattack.

Sidestepping a streak of purple light, she lost her footing and stumbled, her shield charm failing as the crescendo of green energy darted towards her, like a spectral beast in slow motion. _I'm sorry Albus_ . . . she thought as she braced herself for death.

"Not my daughter you BITCH!" shrieked Hermione, deflecting Bellatrix's curse and bearing down upon her with a rage so lethal, that if looks could kill then Bella would already be decomposing. A wave of her mother's hand sent her hurtling to the side, relatively out of harm's way, where she felt familiar arms catch her.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," Albus said wryly, "Your mum will take it from here."

"How did yo–" Cass began, breathing shallowly as she recovered from her fight.

"You're lucky Teddy sent his Patronus when he did," said Al his voice thick with emotion as he realised how close he had come to losing her, "A few seconds more and we would have been too late." He winced audibly, pressing an arm to his side to stem his own bleeding, he had taken a _diffindo_ severing charm to the pelvis, and the cut ran deep. He didn't have the strength to lend his aid against Bellatrix.

Across from them, Hermione duelled like a woman possessed; her hair whipping around her face from the speed of her movements. The ground around them grew hot and cracked, the air growing thick and charged with ozone from the force of their opposing spell work, ancient curses springing from their wands. The epitome of pure blood t fought against the greatest muggle-born of their age, fighting as equals, diverting the rooms attention as an _incisura_ shot so close to Hermione that she missed decapitation by an inch, several strands of her chocolate hair falling to the ground in the aftermath of the slashing curse. Cassandra watched in terror and elation, shivering lightly in Albus' arms as her mother's wand slashed and twirled to send streaks of light flitting across the room against Voldemort's greatest lieutenant.

"What will happen to your children when I kill you mudblood?" taunted Bellatrix, as deranged as her master, moving like a demented ballerina as Hermione's curses danced around her. "You shouldn't worry though, you'll be seeing dear Scorpy and Cassie soon enough."

"You will not lay a finger on my children you fucking bitch," screamed Hermione, and never had the four observers ever seen her temper flare in such a manner. The threat against her children had struck a chord within Hermione, and her power flared with the same potency that Cassandra had exhibited. Bellatrix's mad cackling filled the air as took advantage of her opponent's momentary distraction, replaced by a look of bloody exhilaration. The look that preceded murder.

The killing curse arced through the air, soaring beneath her outstretched arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart. For a split second, she realised what had happened, her eyes bulbous with disbelief, her breast heaving from the exertion of her fatal duel. Then she fell, crumpling to the ground as Hermione Malfoy stepped forward in victory with a cold look on her face, "Never threaten a child in front of their mother," she spat, forever ending the tale of the Sisters Black.

(*)(*)(*)

James saw Blaise Zabini fall with a cry under Charlie Weasley's assault, his wife Daphne succumbing to death at his side as Ginny hurled a killing curse at her heart, he saw Walden Macnair thrown bodily across the room by Alison Longbottom's curse, watched as Theo Nott went down screaming under Granpa Arthur's cruciatus curse, the older man claiming a semblance of vengeance for his wife and daughter-in-law. Augustus Rookwood took a stunner to the chest, hastily followed by an _Avada Kedavra_ courteousy of his father Harry and cousin Roxanne. Rabastan Lestrange duelled with a fiery urgency, striking down the co-leader of the D.A'a Gryffindor's Alex Chase, only to find himself slashed across the waist as Lena screamed, avenging her twin brother with a fatal _incisura, _her angelic face marred with hate as Rabastan's intestines spilled like writhing serpents.

Voldemort was now duelling Draco, George and Luna all at once, and there was a bone-chilling hatred in his eyes as they wove around him, all of them exceptionally powerful fighters yet unable to finish him.

Audrey Weasley was still fighting too, across the hall from Voldemort and like her master she duelled multiple opponents at once. Fred II and Cassandra, both battling their hardest, but Audrey was possessed with a thirst for revenge for the husband and daughters she had lost and she proved to be their equal. James attention was diverted from Voldemort in an instant as Cassandra was flung back, striking the cold stone wall and crumpling to the ground, accompanied by Fred's scream of pain as he went under the cruciatus.

He changed course, running at his aunt rather than Voldemort, but was knocked aside before he had gone so much as a few steps. Audrey spun on her heel, roaring with maniacal laughter, as mad as Bellatrix as she whirled on Albus. James could only stare at the malice which contorted his easy-going, usually mischievous brother's face, slightly shocked at the anger in his eyes. Then his gaze flickered to Cassandra, feebly stirring, and he understood. James turned his attention back to Voldemort, trusting in his younger brother's abilities as he started towards the Dark Lord.

Voldemort's scream of rage filled the air, blasting from him like a shockwave and James stared as if in slow motion, his opponents were sent careening through the air in agony. Hermione Malfoy had entered the hall, her wand slashing through the air as she dropped death eaters on all sides, and Voldemort pointed his wand against her, the slayer of his most faithful follower, and spat out the killing curse.

"PROTEGO MAXIMA!" roared two voices, and a shield charm expanded in the middle of the hall, every fight ceasing as Voldemort stared around for the source as the hall fell silent, the few surviving death eaters and the bulk of the defenders of Hogwarts falling back as if sensing that all was drawing to a close. There was a light pop as a disillusionment charm lifted, and Scorpius and Lily appeared side by side their wands raised against the Dark Lord.

The yells of shock that followed his sisters return from the dead, his mother's heart wrenching sob, his father's gasp of elation, all were stifled at with a flick of Voldemort's wand they were silenced. James stepped slowly, his hand curled around the hilt of Gryffindor's sword as he quietly walked around the room, shifting in between the crowd.

"I killed you," hissed Voldemort, glaring at Lily is disbelief.

"I sacrificed myself," corrected Lily simply, Scorpius standing silent at her side, "You did not kill me."

"I KILLED YOU," screamed the Dark Lord, and his whole body was taut, a snake about to strike at its prey, "How do you still draw breath?"

"You will never understand Riddle," said Lily, still in that calm voice, "The value of love and the power that it holds." Voldemort scoffed.

"Love? Dumbledore's great answer to everything," he jeered, "Where was love when he was flung from the tower? Love did not save him and it will most certainly not save you."

"But it will save them, or have you not noticed that none of your spells are binding? You truly never learn Riddle," she said just as the silencing spell broke and the room filled with cries and taunts, all directed at the Dark Lord.

"Accidents," roared Voldemort, once more silencing the audience, "Luck is all that ensured your survival!"

"Accident was it when my mother died to save me," cried Harry, as the silencing spell lifted.

"Was it an accident when I chose love over my own life?" called Draco, struggling to his feet.

"Was it accidental that I imprisoned myself in crystal to keep my children safe?" taunted Hermione, as she knelt beside Cassandra to heal her.

"And was it an accident when I survived your curse?" asked Lily, a smirk now playing on her features.

"_ACCIDENTS_," screamed Voldemort, before gasping in pain, and flinging out his hand, sending James telekinetically flying through the air but the damage was done. The Sword of Gryffindor stood in stark contrast to his pitch black robes, the ruby hilt sticking out of the small of his back, the bloody tip poking through his pelvis.

"You're finished Riddle," said Lily, but Voldemort's killing curse shot from his wand with such a speed that her life flitted before her eyes, stopping only when she noticed Scorpius meeting his assault head on. The platinum haired boy stood before her, tall and imposing, the jet of green light hitting him dead on and dissolving around his body, leaving him unharmed. _Her Protection_

"Impossible," scowled Voldemort in disbelief, "You two should be dead!"

"I was dead," said Lily, "But I was came back . . . I guess that makes me an angel . . . an Avenging Angel."

"Avada Kedavra!" bellowed Voldemort.

"Incisura!" said Lily calmly.

The jet of green light flew towards her, seemingly striking an invisible barrier and fading away in mid-air, just as it had done for Scorpius. She had died to save them all, he couldn't hurt them no matter how he tried.

The cutting curse slashed through the air, striking his bone white face and for a minute Lily thought that the curse had had no effect. Then a crease of thick black blood streaked across his face. A second later his face seemed to slide, the top of his head from his non-existent nose upwards slipping of his body to reveal his bisected head. His corpse slumped to the ground, falling with a dull thud as the rays of sunshine began streaking down from the roof of the great hall.

The first cry of jubilant victory came from Fred II, but soon everyone was shrieking with glee, even those who had lost loved ones found they were overwrought with joy. They surged forward to grab her, to touch the girl who had saved them all but she had eyes for only one.

There and then she flung herself into Scorpius' arms, kissing him full on his lips as she murmured:

"We did it."

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: Just the Epilogue left.


	26. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**The Future We Fought For**

"What's got you so down cub?" asked James as he sat down beside his nephew, Leo, who had been behaving in an unusually subdued and quiet manner for the entirety of the day.

"It's nothing Uncle Jay," said the fifteen year old unconvincingly, his platinum blonde hair as dishevelled as both his maternal uncles.

"Leo James Malfoy," said James with a grin, "If you don't 'fess up to me now, I won't be able to assure your mum that there's nothing to worry about. And then she may just decide to use Legilimency on you."

Leo chuckled under his breath as he tossed a stone into the nearby pond, "She's a bit scary sometimes."

"She takes after your Grandma Ginny that way," said James, not mentioning that his own temper could sometimes rival his younger sisters, "So what's got my lion cub in such a depressed state of anxiety?"

"I'm fifteen Uncle Jay," Leo rolled his eyes; "That nickname was cute when I was six."

"You are the first Malfoy to ever make it into Gryffindor," shrugged James, "The name stuck. Now stop trying to change the subject. I'm not your Uncle Al." Leo sighed and resigned himself to his fate. It was true, Leo was a Gryffindor whilst his brother Orion "Call me Orion and die, the name is Ryan" Malfoy had just been sorted into Slytherin House. Oddly enough, he had the Potter colouring of black hair and green eyes whilst his brother the Gryffindor had the platinum and silver.

"It's my girlfriend," he said finally, his eyes widening as James punched his hand into the air, an obvious gesture of victory.

"Your dad owes me five galleons," said James when his nephew continued looking at him quizzically.

"You placed bets on me?" he sounded outraged.

"Kid, when your Aunt Cassie was your age, your parents were placing bets on how long it would take for her to shag Albus," he grinned at the disgusted look on the young Malfoy's face.

"So why are you moping around if you've got a girl?" James continued when Leo remained silent.

"Because even though I really like her, none of you guys will accept her," he said in a hesitant voice, "And I don't want to have to choose between her and my family."

"Leo," said James seriously, gazing at his nephew in imploringly, "I fought a war to get rid of prejudice and discrimination, do you really think we wouldn't accept a girl who makes you happy?"

"Her family fought for the other side," he said quietly, not meeting his uncle's gaze. James sighed, realising the problem.

"What's her name?" James asked quietly, watching as more pebbles got thrown into the pond.

"Nereida Zabini," he said, "And everyone knows the Zabini's are a dark family." James stared at his nephew, understanding dawning across his face. His father's generation often spat at the Zabini name due to the crimes of Blaise Zabini, the Betrayer. Though the family were grateful for Syrena's actions in the final battle, certain individuals (namely his uncles, aunts and parents – although Ginny and Harry where forever grateful to her shade for their son's life) couldn't forgive her for breaking his heart and betraying the Order all those years ago, even though he himself had long since gotten over the pain. Time had healed his wounds, and during the rebuilding effort following the war he had begun a romantic relationship with Alison Longbottom. Leo had been the ring-bearer at their wedding; he had been just five at the time. Looking down at his favourite nephew, he knew what he had to do.

"Have you covered the War in History of Magic yet cub?" he asked, raising his eyebrows as Leo shook his head.

"Its O.W.L level," he said, "We're going to cover it this year."

"You got your textbook from Diagon Alley then?"

"I got the deluxe, autographed edition," he said somewhat proudly, "Though I suppose that's because Grandma 'Mione wrote the book."

"It also helps that she's your Headmistress," said James dryly, flicking his wand to summon the textbook from his sister's nearby house. Scorpius and Lily had moved into the property on which the Burrow once stood and had built their family home there. A thick red book came whizzing through the air, hitting him on the back of the head with a dull thud causing Leo to snigger appreciatively.

"Turn to the page on Syrena Zabini," said James kindly as he rubbed his head, his annoyance forgotten in the face of his nephews misery. He watched as Leo nervously flicked through the book before coming to rest on the section containing important figures from the last Wizarding War. His eyes widened as he began reading.

_Syrena Isabella Zabini_

"_The Siren"_

_Syrena Zabini (born 8__th__ February 1999) was a war heroine who distinguished herself during the Second Battle of Hogwarts, during which she changed sides and saved the life of the then leader of the Order of the Phoenix, James Sirius Potter, at the cost of her own. _

_She was born to parents, Blaise Zabini "The Betrayer" and Daphne Zabini (nee Greengrass), both of whom held formidable standing in the dark hierarchy. Her elder brother Delphin Oritel Zabini, who had fled the country after being branded a blood traitor by his parents, is known to have kept in contact with her despite their clashing viewpoints of the ideology of pure-blood supremacy. _

_During her time at Hogwarts she was sorted into Slytherin House and later joined the Inquisitorial Squad, under then Headmistress Dolores Umbridge, and was responsible for the deaths of Frank Longbottom and Alexa Kreiss (both of whom were high ranking members of the D.A). She attained six O. and the same number of N.E. , in the subjects of the Dark Arts, the Mind Arts, Potions, Arithmancy, Charms and Transfiguration. She later went on to study the Dark Arts under Astoria Nott (nee Greengrass) her maternal aunt and a handmaiden of Bellatrix Lestrange._

_Syrena defected to the Order under false pretences during the spring of 2016 and the details of her assignment are to this day unknown. What is known is that she became romantically involved with James Sirius Potter, before betraying the Order and returning to the Dark Side._

_She later participated in the Second Battle of Hogwarts, fighting alongside her parents upon her broomstick, and was thrown from the sky after a short but heated battle with Ginevra Molly Potter (nee Weasley). She survived the fall; having landed in the Hogwarts Lake after her broomstick was shattered beneath her. She re-entered the battle and is prominently known for her actions in foiling Audrey Weasley – A death eater – from killing Roxanne Scamander (nee Weasley)._

_She later encountered her former lover, James Sirius Potter, fighting the dark dragon Malyxstrytheridon with the legendary Sword of Gryffindor. At some point during the fight, Syrena Zabini flung herself between the dragon and James, fatally wounding herself by taking the attack that was meant for him. _

_She was posthumously awarded the Order of Merlin Third Class for her role in the war, and was granted the moniker "The Siren" for her role as a martyr who died for the man she loved. She was entombed in the Hall of Heroes upon the grounds of Hogwarts and is the only death eater (Save for Hermione and Draco Malfoy; see pages 567 – 574) to have ever received such honour._

Leo looked up at his uncle in awe as he finished reading, a light smile spreading across his face as he took in this new information.

"There is no such thing as a family that is purely dark or purely light, your great-uncle Percy proved that when he fought against us in the Last Battle," said James wisely as he patted his nephew on the back.

"Thanks Uncle Jay," said Leo as he flung his arms around his uncle, before suddenly pulling away blushing slightly at the show of familial affection and staring at James accusingly.

"Did you really shag my girlfriend's aunt?" asked Leo, with his arms crossed and eyebrow raised, his emerald eyes twinkling with amused indignation.

(*)(*)(*)

Artemis, the snowy white owl swooped in through the open window, depositing a pale blue envelope onto Teddy Lupin's bacon. Affectionately, she nipped at his fingers before flying towards Victoire, who smiled as she fished for some owl treats in the kitchen drawer. Teddy scowled at the letter for a minute, acknowledging the way his bacon grease seeped into the paper before noticing the spidery handwriting on the front. Eagerly he grabbed it and tore it open, quickly yanking out the folded parchment and beginning to read.

_Hey Mum and Dad_

_France is great but the Auror training is really difficult, you would think that great-aunt Gabriella with give me some slack because I'm family but if anything she's harder on me than everyone else. I hope that explains why I haven't written in a while, really sorry about that by the way. I know mum said I should write at least three times a week but that's kind of unreasonable considering I have no free time whatsoever. _

_Also I met this girl a few months ago, her names Belle Summers, and she actually isn't interested that my surname is Lupin. It gets really tiring after a while you know, when every girl you meet is after you for your parents fame but Belle really doesn't give a damn that you guys saved the wizarding world. I may be bringing her home for Christmas so dad; please, please, please hide the baby albums from mum. Also warn Grandma Fleur that if she mentions wedding plans I shall run for the hills. I'm only twenty years old (not that I need to remind you, oh benevolent ones who gave birth to me) and whilst early marriage worked for you people, I have the luxury of time on my side. On a side note, warn Grandma Ginny that she needs to be nice to Belle if (when) she comes. It really isn't conducive to my love life for her to scare everyone away because they're not "good enough" for me. Honestly it's getting embarrassing. Did you know she sent Howlers to Lavender Patil and Alexis Finnigian for the entire summer because she walked in on the three of us in bed together? That was just a bit of drunken fun, I didn't even date either of them. _

_How are Dominique and Louis (My two favourite Lupins), I miss those kids like crazy and I've already gotten their Christmas gifts by the way. Don't worry mum, it's nothing too explosive. I don't fancy another howler from Headmistress Malfoy because my siblings are somehow setting the school on fire - again. You think she'd be used to that by now considering her own grandchildren spend more time in her office than out of it. By the way, tell Domi if she uses her veela magic on one more guy I will not be liable for my actions. I am a half-trained auror and I forward this motion to keep my sister locked away in a tower, guarded by a dragon, where no boy can reach her. Also tell Louis that he needs to stop bitching to me about his furry little problem every time he writes because it's getting annoying. It's not my fault the werewolf gene skipped Dom and I and went straight to him. Break it to him gently; I don't want any more broken bones next time I visit._

_Hope you are all doing well and missing you like crazy. _

_-Remy (The handsomest and most intelligent of the Lupin's) _

_P.S. Will somebody please tell Uncle Harry that there is no chance in hell that I'm coming back to work for him in England. Yes I know he's the Head Auror but its too damn weird having to call your grandfather boss every morning. It's one of the reasons I transferred to France in the first place. That and the fact my apartment is right on the beach where I have a perfect view of the French girls sunbathing in the nude. _

Teddy chuckled to himself as he handed the letter to his wife, shaking his head as he thought of his eldest son. Remy Lupin had become quite the playboy over the years; he had inherited his father's metamorphmagus abilities and werewolf strength in addition to his mother's veela charm – a lethal combination to the female population of the world. He was still grinning when his twins, Dominique Nymphadora Lupin and Louis Altair Lupin came hurtling down the stairs towards the table, devouring their food as only two fourteen year olds could.

"He's bringing a girl home?" choked Victoire. Remy did not bring girls home. He usually just brought them back to his bed . . . but Victoire was suddenly feeling overwhelmed that her son may finally be settling down. It made her feel old.

"His baby photos are in the attic, first box on your left," said Teddy with a grin, his turquoise hair changing into his son's signature neon green.

(*)(*)(*)

The burger patties sizzled on the muggle grill, nobody noticing as Draco and Harry aimed their wands at the contraption and mutter a few _incendio's_ to stop the fire from dying out. Christmas this year was unseasonably warm and it had been decided that a barbecue was in order, Harry and Draco had both insisted that they were perfectly capable of working the grill whilst their wives worked in the kitchen making the salads and side dishes.

The entire family were sprawled around the magically expanded garden of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, a family that although had suffered a drastic decline in its numbers during the war were now as numerous as ever.

Teddy, James and Albus were clustered around one of the tables playing a strange muggle drinking game which would no doubt lead to one of them falling asleep in the bath-tub; Harry had hoped that fatherhood would mature his sons but all three had become much more carefree after the war and Harry hadn't the heart to discipline them. They deserved their fun after all they had seen in their youths. Besides it was much more amusing to watch Victoire, Alison and Cassandra rage at their husbands whenever they did something too reckless.

Teddy and married Victoire three months after the war ended; she was now the Head of St. Mungo's Hospital and Teddy was teaching as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, something their three children weren't so keen about but his numerous nephews and nieces (all of whom adored Uncle Teddy) were. Remy was a playboy, Dominique was a flirt and Louis was a brooding youth who was stronger than the rest of them put together – him being full werewolf and all. The twins in question were both swimming in the recently installed swimming pool, Dom boasting a vibrant pink ponytail whilst Louis favoured a head of neon orange spikes.

James and Alison had married last of all his children, Harry had understood that his eldest biological son had needed time to grieve following Syrena's sacrifice and hadn't pushed him into settling down. Now though, the Leader of the Order of the Phoenix and the Leader of the D.A were happily wed with two children. Trystane Neville Potter was due to start Hogwarts next year, his younger brother Daniel Harry Potter was six. Their daughter was somewhere around the yard. The couple were currently trying again, hoping for a second girl, something that Harry really didn't want to know but over the years he had found out more about his children and grandchildren's (Remy) sex lives than he was comfortable knowing. James and Alison in particular lived in Grimmauld Place and they were extremely loud.

Albus and Cassandra had avoided the fanfare that was sure to have come had they had a traditional wedding. Both were extremely famous for their respective roles in the war and to avoid the media and having to plan an elaborate event . . . they had eloped. Ginny had nearly killed them when she found out. They had four children, Calypso Hermione Potter was thirteen and a tomboy if Harry had ever met one, collecting scabs were other girls her age collected dolls. Her older sister Aurora Ginevra Potter was in her sixth year at Hogwarts and was currently reclining against her boyfriend's (Seth Finnigan) chest near the swimming pool. Harry scowled at the sight – his granddaughter was much too young to be dating, she was only allowed to have a boyfriend when she turned forty – it didn't help matters that she was extremely beautiful. Aurora had inherited her mother's beauty and her father's colouring in addition to her Grandpa Draco's sleek hair. Her raven hair fell in a sleek wave down to the small of her back, her emerald eyes always glimmering with mirth across her porcelain skin. Albus seemed to share Harry's sentiment, he was glaring at the boy every few minutes from his seat but Cass had warned him not to scare the poor boy away as he had with all his daughters other suitors. Draco on the other hand didn't know why the two of them bothered, Cass was a war heroine and every boy in the world knew firsthand that Aurora's mother had gone head to head with Bellatrix herself during the war and lived to tell the tale – nobody dared mess with a daughter of Cassandra Malfoy. The twins, Lyra and Gemini, were still five and where playing together quietly. Harry sometimes felt sorry for his son, having four daughters.

Lily and Scorpius had two children, Leo James Malfoy and Orion Albus Malfoy – she was currently pregnant with her third son and the only part of her unborn son's name was that his middle name would be "Edward," Teddy's actual name. The reason for the large age difference between fifteen year old Leo, twelve year old Ryan (named for the constellation Orion) and their unborn baby brother was that Lily's second pregnancy had been a difficult one and she had been told she would be unable to have any more children after his birth. Her third son was thus an unplanned miracle.

Harry would never forget that Scorpius had thrown him in the deep end when it came to his grandson Leo – really the man had fought Voldemort and yet had sent his son to his father-in-law to receive "the talk," – or so he had thought at the time.

"_Grandpa Harry," said a then fourteen year old Leo, "Dad said I need to ask you for help because I'm a man now and he doesn't want to explain."_

_OH MERLIN NO! _

"_He had to go to work and said I should ask you or Uncle Albus but I think Uncle Al will laugh at me."_

_THE TALK! HE DIDN'T EVEN NEED TO GIVE THE TALK TO HIS OWN SON'S – THEY HAD JUST SACKED UP AND SHAGGED!_

"_So I was wondering if we could go to Diagon Alley today and buy the stuff we need and then you could show me how to do it."_

_MERLIN! THE KID WANTED A DEMONSTRATION! HOW THE HELL WAS HE SUPPOSED TO DEMONSTRATE SOMETHING LIKE THAT?_

"_Are you okay Grandpa? You look like you've seen a ghost. I know there might be a bit of blood the first time because I really have no experience but I'm sure you'll be able to heal me with a few charms. We should get Grandma Ginny; she's good at that stuff."_

_MERLIN HELP ME!_

"_Grandpa Harry . . . You know what, I'll just ask Remy to teach me how to shave." _

Harry had almost died of an aneurism that day.

(*)(*)(*)

Hermione took a seat beside her husband, balancing her plate of food on her lap, the twelve years encased in crystal had made it that she looked drastically younger than Draco and the rest of her friends but she didn't mind. Wizards had abnormally long life spans so she had no doubt she would one day have as many wrinkles as Fleur and her hair would be as grey as Ginny's – she was enjoying her relative youth for as long as she could.

Across from her, Lysander was trying to settle his four year old daughter Angelina, whilst Roxanne was arguing with her son Lorcan – he stood half a head taller than her but cowered under his mothers rage as she berated him about his new tattoo. Hermione laughed at the sight, Lysander had never been able to control his children so it often fell to his wife to discipline them. George Weasley, now greying, was talking animatedly with his grandson Joey – who had inherited the prankster genes and was single-handedly driving Hermione (Headmistress Malfoy) insane. Joey's parents where Fred II and Lena Chase (now Weasley) and he had a younger brother Alex who would be starting Hogwarts next year, Hermione sighed at the thought – those grey hairs would be coming sooner than expected.

Arthur Weasley sat nearby, his gnarled walking stick leaning against his chair as he balanced his youngest great-grandchild on his frail knee. Syrena Alison Potter clapped her one year old hands, giggling up at her "Gramps" as James smiled fondly at his daughter in Arthurs arms. The Weasley Patriarch had seen a lot of grief in his time, but he had managed to cope by pushing all his remaining life into doting and spoiling his great-grandchildren.

There was a crack of apparition and Hermione turned to see none other than Remy Lupin, slim and lithely muscled, his spunky neon-green hair flashing in the sunlight as he held onto a blonde girl beside him. _This must be the famous Belle Summers._ The entire family was talking about her and Hermione already had quite a respect for the unknown girl – it took a special type of lady to be able to get Remy to become monogamous. Then her eyes widened, noticing the girls extremely large, obviously pregnant stomach. _Well that explains it._

"Hey guys," said Remy with a sheepish grin, "This is Belle, we're having a baby!"

Ginny and Victoire were on their feet in an instant, Fleur close on their heels as three bat-bogey hexes caught Remy in the face. She watched amused as Cassandra led the poor girl – Belle – obviously overwhelmed aside to speak with Lily and herself. Remy on the other hand was running as fast as he could, dodging his mother's hexes before finally taking refuge behind Harry and Teddy, both of whom were doubled over with laughter. Bill wheeled himself forward and laid a restraining hand on his wife, who just shook her head before sitting into his lap and letting Victoire deal with the green-haired boy. James grabbed his mother around the waist to keep her from interfering as Albus noticed his daughter's boyfriend lean in for a kiss. With a bellowing roar he was on his feet, sending a stinging hex right into the _boyfriends_ crown jewels. Aurora was on her feet in an instant, beginning a shouting match with her father.

Hermione smiled at her massive, sprawling family surrounding her. They were chaotic, somewhat dysfunctional but still perfectly happy.

She remembered all the pain of the war, all the sacrifices they had made and sighed. Draco came up beside her and asking:

"Something on your mind 'Mione?"

"Just thinking that it was all worth it in the end," she said, pulling him in for a kiss.

_**-The End**_

(*)(*)(*)

Notice: If you enjoyed this story be sure to check out "The Good Son"

Authors Note: Firstly thank you all for reading this story. I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. It was a blast, it's been twenty six chapters and over a hundred thousand words and is the first major story I've ever completed. Thank you to everyone who followed this story, everyone who listed it as a favourite and everyone who left an awesome review. You guys gave me the motivation to keep publishing. A big thumbs up to you all!

Special thanks to the reviewers who gave me feeback on almost every chapter. Thank you to:

Grovek26

ADivergentPotterhead

Leilanecris

GinnyCC

Sirensings090

DutchPotterfan

Tooyaluvr

And all the rest of you awesome people!

Another big thank you to you all!

Etymology of Names

House Zabini : Syrena – Siren; Delphin – Greek demigod lieutenant of Poseidon; Nereida – The goddess of the nyads, spirits of water. . . The names of the Zabini family were inspired by the ocean because Blaise means seafoam in ancient Amareic.

House Malfoy/Potter: Cassandra – The Constellation Cassiopeia; Leo – The constellation/zodiac symbol Leo; Orion – The Constellation of the Hunter Orion; Altair – The brightest star in the constellation Aquila; Aurora – The celestial lights known seen over the Poles; Lyra – The constellation of the harp; Calypso – A moon orbiting Saturn, named for the Titaness in Greek Myth; Gemini – The constellation/Zodiac sign of the twins.

A brief explanation about Ron

I never saw Ron as a bad person per say; rather I used his character to show how bitter a person can become due to unrequited love. Hermione never cheated on him, they were never together as this story is non-epilogue compliant and it is stated in previous chapters that Hermione always loved Draco. The character Ron was abusive to Scorpius and Cass (to a lesser extent than he was to her brother though) because he saw them as the children that should have been his, as tangible reminders that Hermione had fallen in love with somebody else. This may not seem logical but remember he had thought the woman he loved was dead for five years before she returned to leave her young children with Harry and Ginny and the truth came out that she had eloped with Draco Malfoy –Ron's school nemesis. In the end he redeemed himself by giving his life to save Hermione but he could never let go of his bitterness and it festered to make him a chaonic shi – restless spirit/ tormented soul. He was never bashed or made out to be evil; I feel he falls into the category of a tragic hero.


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